


the incomprehensible vastness of space

by museaway



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Claustrophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gladiator Shiro (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Rescue, Scars, Slow Burn, Ulaz (Voltron) Lives, reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 48,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museaway/pseuds/museaway
Summary: When Matt and Sam Holt crash-land a year after the failed Kerberos mission, they return without their pilot.Shiro is declared dead, but Keith, newly minted paladin of the Black Lion, refuses to believe it. After months with no leads, his reckless attitude has compromised the struggling team, and Keith is ready to accept his failure as a leader—until he spots what he thinks is a photo of Shiro on a Galra ship that ultimately leads him to the Blade of Marmora.(As Slav might say, this is the universe where Keith and Shiro meet a little earlier, fall in love a little differently, and Ulaz lives.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the backstory about Keith and Shiro meeting before it was revealed on the show, and I left that version in this story because that's how they met in this universe. Healing/tech/gladiator stuff may deviate from the show because I had to make up details. 
> 
> _Caution:_ There is one scene that features brief underage drunkenness due to on-planet feasting. Also, Shiro is injured on-page but it's not overly graphic.
> 
> Written for the [2018 Sheith Big Bang](https://sheithbigbang.tumblr.com/) | beta read by RiatheMai | [art by littlewhitetie](https://twitter.com/littlewhitetie/status/1076011032324100097)

**Galra arena planet**

**Approximately six months ago**

 

 

They called it the Beast.

He’d heard the other prisoners whispering between the cells about the undefeated champion. A sword killer, they’d said. It would be the death of them. It had already taken down the two strongest fighters and was the current favorite among the crowd—the handlers wouldn’t allow a popular fighter to be killed just yet, not when there was profit to be made. They’d keep the Beast alive until the next favorite rose up, whether that was days or weeks from now.

Shiro had learned to keep his head down when the handlers came. This was not the Garrison, and the people around him were not soldiers. Anyone he might protect today would offer him up as a sacrifice without a second thought if it meant escaping the pit themselves. Survival wasn’t a matter of honor or decency. In here, you kept to yourself and ate what they gave you. Let yourself grow weak and you might as well ask to die. He’d kept his head down and fought, calling on martial arts he’d studied in grade school, on discipline honed from years in the Garrison. He’d survived the first week that way, then two.

Three.

Ten.

Days had bled into one another, shorter than days on Earth, and soon he had no concept of how long he’d been in Galra hands, how much time had passed since that ship had abducted the Kerberos mission, only that it was becoming harder to remember the scent of desert rain, the give of his own mattress. The number for Adam’s favorite takeout place. In all likelihood, Shiro would never eat takeout again, or see that apartment, or step foot in a desert on Earth. He’d die in a gladiator pit like hundreds, thousands of prisoners before him.

He’d been part of the latest group of fighters transported to this facility—the largest in the empire. The emperor himself had a box here. It was where the strongest warriors came to die: some by choice, most prisoners like Shiro who only fought for the chance to see another morning.

The emperor wasn’t in attendance today. They said the fiercest matches happened in his presence, which meant today, the Beast would be paired against someone he could beat with light spectacle. Shiro knew he and the others had been brought here for that purpose, that it was only a matter of minutes before it was his body dragged out by the heels.

Shiro held his breath as someone approached the cell, heart stuttering when footsteps stopped in front of it. The handler called for him by species.

“You. The human.”

There was nothing he could do. If he refused to fight, he would be put to death. The Galra wouldn’t feed and clothe him for nothing. The only way to survive was to enter the arena.

The handler, a stringy Galra missing her left thumb, affixed a lead to the collar around Shiro’s neck. She led him out of the prisoner cell block, through a courtyard where fighters trained on days there weren’t matches, and from the courtyard entered the back of the arena through a tunnel that led to the bottom level. Once inside, he could hear the continuous wall of shouting from the crowd overhead, of hands beating together. Something was close to victory.

Along the passageway, Galra handlers had a number of creatures in chains. Three of the creatures looked up at Shiro as he walked by, but most were lifeless. They stared doll-like at the floor or straight ahead.

Shiro had never fought in this arena. He’d been undefeated at the smaller one where he’d been held since the Galra had taken him from Kerberos, and had naively hoped he might be able to stay there long enough for someone to rescue him. With time, he’d learned the shadowy parts of that pit where he could disappear from a weak-eyed opponent, precisely where the ground was uneven, of fingerholds bored into the walls that allowed him to climb and attack from above. But that victory would ultimately kill him.

The handler led him up a flight of metal stairs, and he had his first glimpse of this new pit through the grates in the wall. It was at least three times the scale of the one where he’d fought before and brightly lit, with high, smooth walls. Nearly every seat in the house was filled and half the crowd was on its feet as the Beast took down its mark.

The whispers hadn’t prepared Shiro for the Beast’s size—easily the equivalent of five grown men, like a troll out of fairytales. It ran on stumpy legs, kicking up dirt, and swung a club that crackled with quintessence. Shiro couldn’t see the opponent for the dust. The Beast brought the club down in one swipe and the crowd erupted.

Shiro closed his eyes out of respect.

Doors lifted at several places in the wall surrounding the pit and handlers ran onto the sand to detain the Beast while the body was taken out. The crowd chanted its name.

“Myzax! Myzax!”

Shiro only had moments before he would face the Beast himself. His survival instinct told him to turn on his handler and run, but he wouldn’t make it out of the arena. He studied Myzax instead. Physically, Shiro was at a disadvantage. If Myzax landed a blow it would be lethal, but his size meant Shiro had him on speed as long as his strides weren’t long enough to compensate for his bulk. Myzax’s head was small compared to the rest of his body. Not a large brain, then. He likely relied on instinct rather than intelligence. Shiro had fought plenty like him, abducted from worlds the Galra had conquered.

The only way to take down an opponent like Myzax was to deliver a lethal strike or to find a weak point that would provide Shiro extra time, but Myzax’s sensitive areas were covered, his neck too tall to reach even with a weapon. Was it possible to trip him?

There was an announcement in Galra, and Shiro knew they were calling for the next opponent. He suppressed the terror of knowing that opponent was him. His heart began to race as a door lifted in the wall directly before him. The handler unlatched his collar and put a sword in Shiro’s hand. She shoved him from behind. He staggered three steps forward and the door dropped shut behind him.

There was blood on the field. The crowd began to shout.

“Human,” the announcer said and Myzax roared.

In that ultimate grim moment, Shiro thought of Keith. There had been a few recruits he’d taken under his wing—Keith hadn’t been the only one—but he’d always seemed lonelier than the other kids his age. He’d reminded Shiro a little of himself when he’d been younger. Angry. Withdrawn. Maybe that’s why Shiro had taken such a strong interest in him the first time they’d met on a stretch of desert.

He’d been out for a run, eager to clear his head. He preferred the solitude of evening desert runs over the Garrison’s gym—fresh air and fading sunlight. He’d never seen sunsets like that anywhere. There’d been the sound of an engine not far off. Something small. A white flash had caught his eye and he’d stopped on the edge of a wind-rounded cliff, wiping sweat from his eyes, awed by the pilot deftly navigating the reddish rock formations in the valley below. Shiro had watched him for a few minutes, using the time to stretch, and had been about to continue his run when the pilot had driven up and out of the valley and stopped a short distance from him to remove his helmet.

Shiro had been surprised to see a small boy with dark hair. Early teens, maybe. Probably not old enough to legally pilot the bike. It was vintage, the paint roughed up. It might have belonged to his parents. Someone who’d taught him how to ride.

“Excuse me...” Shiro had said, compelled. “Should you be out here by yourself?”

Keith had made a fist and hugged the helmet to his stomach. He’d worn a poisonous look and a faded bruise on his jaw the size of someone’s fist. “What the hell’s it matter to you?”

“It’ll be dark soon. Shouldn’t you be getting back home?”

“I’m not going home with _you_ , if that’s what you’re asking.”

Shiro had been horrified by the misunderstanding. He’d held up his hands. “I—what? No, it’s just that it can be dangerous out here after dark. It gets a lot colder than you think.”

Keith had studied his reaction for a few seconds, then snorted and glanced away. “Yeah, no shit. I grew up out here.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. My name is Takashi Shirogane. I’m a lieutenant with the Galaxy Garrison. I wanted to talk to you because I saw you flying that bike. We’re actually going to be recruiting at area schools beginning next month. Have you ever considered becoming a—”

“Don’t care.”

And then Keith had put the helmet back on and flown away.

When Shiro had visited Keith’s high school as a recruiting officer a few weeks later, Keith acted like they’d never met and brushed off Shiro’s attempt to talk to him. A well-meaning teacher confided that Keith was fourteen and had lost his father several years earlier. He lived in a boys’ home after years of bouncing around the foster system and was frequently suspended for fighting.

“He’s bright,” the teacher had said. “But he’s a discipline case. No one’s been able to get through to him. I’m afraid he doesn’t have much of a future at the rate he’s going.”

Shiro would see him riding in the evenings sometimes. Sometimes Keith would talk to him. When they’d speak, Keith usually refused to look Shiro in the eye, so Shiro would chat casually about himself—about his own childhood ambition to become a pilot, to one day fly in space. The only indication Keith was paying attention had been the way he’d slowly grind his right heel into the dirt. His shoes had been coming apart at the toes. Keith had punched him a couple weeks later when Shiro worked up the nerve to offer him cash to buy a new pair, but he’d ultimately snatched the money from his hand. He’d worn those new shoes ragged before he’d grown out of them. Knowing Keith, they were probably still in the back of his closet.

It had taken Shiro almost a year to get Keith to open up, but he’d never stopped trying to connect to him. No matter where they were (the desert, a fast-food restaurant, a bench outside of the home), Keith had kept his arms crossed and head down. But by the time Shiro had finally persuaded him to enlist in the Garrison, he’d sometimes look at Shiro when they spoke. His eyes were a strange purplish-gray. Shiro had never seen eyes like them.

Dorm life hadn’t suited Keith much better than the home had, and Shiro was regularly patching him up after a fight. He and Adam didn’t have space in their base housing for a teenager, but he’d seen Keith when he could, doing his best to make time for dinner once a week and catching him between classes. Keith even had a dedicated ringtone on Shiro’s phone—an irritating sound Keith had programmed in himself.

People on the base jokingly referred to him as Shiro’s little brother. They definitely _fought_ like siblings, Matt Holt had said after that failed attempt at game night. Then there’d been the winter Keith turned sixteen and shot up four inches. He’d started to fall asleep on Shiro’s couch when they did takeout and a movie, and he often stayed the night. Two of Shiro’s favorite t-shirts became Keith’s property, along with the Garrison sweatpants he’d long outgrown but never given away. But the most noticeable change in Keith was the way his eyes had begun to linger on Shiro.

Adam had been a good sport about Keith at first, but when Shiro was offered the Kerberos mission and they were already arguing about whether he should go, Adam finally called those looks out for what they were.

“That kid’s into you. You dote on him too much. I swear he sees you more than I do.”

“That’s not fair. Maybe he’s a little dependent, but he’s had it rough. He just needs someone to believe in him.”

“You and your hero complex. You cannot _fix_ other people, Takashi.”

He didn’t dream about Adam so much anymore. And it didn’t sting to think of him the way it had those first few weeks on the mission where he’d cried in private, biting his hand so the Holts wouldn’t overhear. He’d planned to stay with Adam until he died, to come home from Kerberos with experiences he would remember when he couldn’t fly anymore. He’d never imagined that Adam would have refused to wait for him, that it would’ve been Keith seeing him off instead.

Keith must have graduated by now. He was probably working as a pilot on missions like the one Shiro had accepted and would have his own apartment. His own t-shirts. Shiro’s heart felt heavy knowing that he’d never see Keith again. He’d never see anyone again if he didn’t find a way out of this pit.

Myzax had turned his focus to Shiro and was watching him with the eyes of a hunter. Not entirely driven by instinct, then. He was thinking, waiting for Shiro to move. Was he the type to like the chase, or did he give his opponents just enough time to relax before he attacked? Shiro hadn’t been briefed on Myzax’s fighting style as he would’ve been if he were still the favorite. The passive weapon in his hand was worthless.

Myzax took a step toward him. The impact shook the sand underfoot. Shiro crouched low and studied Myzax’s legs. If he could strike the back of both knees, force Myzax to the ground, he might be able to incapacitate him. He waited until Myzax was within swinging distance and sprinted toward his non-dominant arm, ducking the blow Myzax dealt him in response. The crowd bellowed Myzax’s name and Shiro heard the whirr of a weapon charging.

The first blast struck the ground to the left of his feet, bright as a storm. It created a momentary dust screen that hovered long enough for Shiro to dive in the opposite direction, avoiding the second and third blasts that came after it. He got to his feet, expecting a fourth, but Myzax raised the club above his head and roared.

He swung at Shiro again. Shiro ran toward him, slashing at the inside of Myzax’s legs where his skin was likely to be thinnest, but he barely scratched him. Myzax knocked him sideways with a fist. Shiro lost his footing, falling to the ground and curling into the side where Myzax had struck him. The pain was intense, more than bruising. His ribs were likely broken, but he couldn’t afford to make his injury known. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand against a wave of jeers.

Myzax fired three more rounds, but none came as close to hitting as the first. Was the weapon inaccurate, or was Myzax imprecise with his aim? Shiro struggled for breath. Running with broken ribs was anguish, but he ran to test the weapon. It whirred, and three more blasts struck the sand at his heels.

The blasts always came in triplicate, followed by a delay. Not much, a few seconds. Long enough to recharge. But that could give him precious seconds to injure Myzax. Injuring him was his only option at this point. Shiro couldn’t hope to tire him out in his condition.

He sprinted toward Myzax during the next lapse. This time, Shiro struck upward, aiming for the inside of his dominant arm—the one holding the club. He landed a hit inside the bend of his elbow and Myzax’s dark blood began to spill across his skin. Shiro struck again and the trickle became a steady flow. Myzax roared and tried to bring the club down on him, but the blood had made his hand slick. He lost his grip on the club.

It fell, knocking out its light.

Shiro kicked it behind him and narrowly avoided Myzax’s other arm. But even without a weapon, Myzax still had him by force. The injuries Shiro had dealt him were superficial; the blood loss hadn’t slowed him. The weight of the club would probably require both of Shiro’s hands. He might not be able to operate it, but he threw down the sword and bent to retrieve it.

The club weighed double what he’d expected, and the pain in his side made his eyes water. Dust from the ring clung to his skin, to his sweat and tears. The crowd roared at his arrogance, but Shiro raised the club and pointed it toward Myzax’s chest. This was not his day to die. He would see Earth again. He’d see Keith again.

Lifting the club triggered its activation. The pink ball of light at the top began to swirl and crackle, and when Shiro shoved forward with both arms, it released a single blast. The weapon’s aim was true. A ball of pink light surged toward Myzax and he went down, falling onto the dirt and crying out. The sand darkened around him.

Shiro remained in stance, prepared to fire another round, but seconds and seconds ticked by and Myzax didn’t get up. He heard shouts ordering him to finish the fight, to kill, but he clamped a hand to his ribs and let the club drop. Myzax had no more choice in being here than he did.

Shiro was announced as the winner and forced into restraints. He didn’t struggle as handlers bound his wrists. The furious crowd threw things into the arena, demanding bloodshed. Shiro was struck by something sharp but trained his eyes on the exit. The majority of the trash was being thrown at Myzax for his failure, accumulating around his arms and legs. He remained motionless. They booed as Myzax was rolled onto a stretcher to be taken out, as he was carried from the pit. Maybe Shiro ought to have done him the kindness of killing him; they would turn on him now. The Beast was dead.

* * *

Back in the prisoner cell block, he stood obediently in the infirmary while a medic stripped his clothes and ordered Shiro into a healing pod. It was a hulking, archaic model—probably taken off of a ship when it was modernized. The floor was bare metal and the door was solid. He wouldn’t be able to see out of it when it was closed. But the medic had given him something for the pain. It would only be a few minutes before sleep took him. He’d likely sleep for the next day.

“You should’ve let him kill you,” the medic said under his breath.

Shiro said nothing. His muscles ached. He hadn’t been able to treat them since Kerberos and exercise only did so much to help his condition. He was covered in dirt from the match. He could taste it, feel the grit on his lips. Of everything he missed from Earth, being clean was among the things he missed most. What he wouldn’t give for a hot shower right about now. A fresh shirt. It was funny the things he’d taken for granted.

“Excuse me, how long am I going to be—”

The medic sealed the door.

The inside of the pod was pitch-dark and cold. Its thick walls had muffled the din of the arena and Shiro could hear the panic in his breath. He pushed against the door but it was locked, and the pod began to vibrate as the healing cycle initiated. Shiro shut his eyes, hoping the medicine would take effect soon. With them closed he could pretend he was anywhere else.

He was shaking by the time the medicine started to work. The span between his breaths lengthened and every part of him felt sluggish. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. Maybe he would dream and find peace in the escape.

For a long time, his mind teetered on the edge of asleep and awake, but eventually his exhaustion won out. He dreamed in gray.

* * *

A different handler came for him five days later. She snapped a lead against her palm and spoke bluntly.

“The human.”

There was murmuring from the adjacent cells, sighs of relief. He couldn’t blame them for not wanting to be the ones called. The other prisoners didn’t look up as Shiro walked to his cell door, and they didn’t look up as the handler attached her lead to the collar around his neck. The Galra had focused their attention on the human, and he’d keep their attention until he was defeated.

This handler was younger and taller than the last, with a stern look and dark hair pulled into a severe braid behind her head. She wore loose clothing, similar to what the prisoners were given, and it allowed him to see that her left leg had been replaced with a prosthetic. She didn’t pull at his neck the way the last handler had. Shiro supposed that, to many Galra, he and the other prisoners were no different than animals were to some people back on Earth, but she applied only light pressure to the collar when she wanted Shiro to turn this way or that, and she didn’t berate him during their walk the way the handlers had at the last facility. Maybe she’d fought in the arena herself. That could account for the injury to her leg. It wasn’t uncommon for Galra to volunteer to fight for money or status. Even Zarkon’s son had been said to make an appearance at a remote arena from time to time.

“Your opponent won his last four matches. He is favoring his left leg.”

It was a moment before Shiro realized the handler was speaking to him. He nodded to indicate that he’d heard her, uncertain what etiquette she expected, if she wanted him to reply. He didn’t dare speak out of turn with the collar on his neck. More than likely, she had money on the match and was trying to sway it in her favor. He ought to feel glad that she’d bet on him and not his opponent. Shiro had been offered bribes before. Was that as common here as it had been at the last arena? They were probably all rigged. Myzax had been instructed to tire him out, and whoever he was matched against today undoubtedly knew about the injuries he’d sustained in his last fight.

Five days here, each not two-thirds the length of a day on Earth, hadn’t been enough time for his body to fully heal—not even left in that dark healing pod for two of them. He’d finally worked the stiffness from his arms and thighs, but his legs were cramped after days spent standing and his ribs were still sore. It was lucky his opponent was also injured.

The handler applied pressure to the collar to indicate they would turn where the hallway intersected another. Shiro had only made this walk once, but he recognized the corridor that led up to the pit. To his right were the barred windows that looked directly onto the sand; to his left a series of small holding cells, deep enough for a human to turn around but not to sit or lie down. A number of them held creatures he’d never seen before: some humanoid like him, others beast-like, one with limbs like tentacles. They’d all been brought here for sport, inconsequential fighters to entertain the crowd until the main match. It made his stomach ache.

“The emperor is an attendance today,” the handler said. “The arena is at capacity. He has requested the winners be invited to his box.”

She spoke carefully, quietly. Shiro doubted anyone they passed could hear her words. Once again he said nothing.

“If you survive this fight,” the handler continued, “you will be the one invited. Do you have any loyalty to the Galra?”

What kind of test was this? Without seeing her face, he had no way to guess her motivation, if she was hoping he’d speak out against the Galra so she could punish him, or if she was searching for a compatriot. There was an active resistance movement in the empire, though how large it was or how they operated was a mystery to Shiro. They’d been able to arrange for Shiro and the Holts to escape before they were taken to a labor planet, but Shiro had been separated from them before the resistance could help.

He decided to test his luck. If this handler was part of a resistance, she wouldn’t hurt him. If not, it was still possible she had money on the fight and wouldn’t risk injuring him beforehand.

“No,” he said. His voice croaked from dust and disuse. “My loyalty is to Earth.”

They stopped beside an empty holding cell. She pressed her hand to a metal panel on the wall and the door opened. She secured it once he was inside.

“I may not be the one to escort you up to the box,” she said, looking him in the eyes through the bars. “Listen carefully to anything you might overhear. I will find you after.”

“You’re asking me to betray your emperor?” Shiro said.

“I’m asking for your assistance. I arranged your transfer to this facility, and I’ve watched you since you came here. You refused to kill the Beast. Your species is intelligent. You value life.”

“Yes.”

“If you help us, I will get you out of here. When you are taken to the box, do not speak unless you are addressed. Do not repeat anything you hear to anyone other than me. Do you understand?”

Her eyes were intense. Her determination reminded him a little of Keith. He wanted to believe the resistance had found him, that he might not squander his last days.

“What’s your name?” Shiro said.

She scowled like she’d tasted something bitter. “Why does that matter?”

“I like to know who I’m working with.”

She blinked a few times and said with less venom, “I am called Jumi.”

“Jumi, I’m Shiro.”

“ _She-row_ ,” she repeated slowly.

It was the first time he’d heard his own name spoken in almost a year, and he was surprised by how much it moved him. He took a deep breath to retain his composure.

“I will come to your cell tonight,” Jumi said.

“What makes you so sure I’ll overhear something?”

“Arrogance. They do not acknowledge intelligence in other species.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Someone will come for you when it’s time.”

She walked away briskly and returned a few minutes later with another prisoner in chains, this one like an overgrown fox covered in greenish hair. She placed it in the next cell but didn’t speak to it.

His eyes darted to the sliver of sand visible through the opposing wall. Something massive roared and ran past the grates, blocking out the light. There was a slicing sound, a high-pitched wail, and the crowd’s cheering grew so loud it shook the arena.

* * *

The next thing he knew, Shiro was being prodded awake. The heat of the holding cell must have made him drowsy. He’d dozed off standing upright. The tunic stuck to his chest where he’d been sweating, and the uncirculated air in the cell was dank. He blinked, his eyes heavy and dry, and let himself be dragged out.

At a distance, someone was moaning. They walked past a creature on a stretcher that had been badly beaten about the head. Its facial features were no longer recognizable. Shiro guessed at the species by the purplish hue of the arm the poor Galran thrust up toward the handlers standing over it. No one paid him any mind. Would he be left there to die, Shiro wondered? Would he die alone, reaching for people who didn’t acknowledge he was there? Even if this Galran had elected to fight, it was a miserable way to go. And Shiro could do nothing, couldn’t even meet the Galran’s eyes, they were so swollen.

“I’m sorry,” he said and accepted the blow to his back as a result. Whether the Galran had heard him or not, he’d never know. They’d already gone past.

There was an ongoing fight in the pit. Something large blocked the light in three of the windows and when it roared, it was the scream of the wind.

“Think it’ll lose?” said the handler to his left.

“Not Galcia. Third match today and he hasn’t slowed a step. Who’s next?”

“This human.”

“Eh? No point betting today. The payout’ll be no good.”

Jumi had said his opponent was favoring a leg. But if this Galcia had survived three matches already and no one was willing to bet against it—especially not two seasoned handlers who knew more than the average person about gladiator fighting—Shiro knew he stood little chance. Not with the emperor present.

Not a minute later, he heard the nauseating squelch that signaled victory. The crowd exploded with applause and calls of the victor’s name. Shiro had learned about a champion by that name when he’d first been taken, one of the few allowed retirement. If this was the same Galcia that had once fought at the Drule Arena, thirty Earth years must have passed since its last match. Beyond its impressive size, they said it struck as quickly as a snake, and its claws could sever bone. Galcia had been engineered, one of the government’s experiments. It was said Zarkon kept an alchemist.

Shiro didn’t have time to think of running. A handler shoved him onto the sand as the loser was being carried out in pieces. He retched at the sight and covered his mouth, tasting acid at the back of his throat, bitterly regretting the things he’d left behind and unsaid.

Galcia waited at the far end of the pit, held by the neck in restraints by a team of handlers. He thrashed at them with a clawed hand. He wasn’t as massive as Shiro had anticipated from the stories, about Myzax’s height and narrower in his midsection and thighs. Generations of fighters had carved a lattice of scars into the blue-hued skin stretched over his ribs. Across his chest and midsection, he wore a strip of protective armor that probably covered his vital organs, but it left his arms and legs free. From his mouth hung two yellowed fangs—one snapped off at his lip, the other so long it curved to his chin. His eyes were slits in a dark, scaly face.

Shiro had been afraid when he fought Myzax, but the feeling that crawled over him now was something different. It went beyond fear. His death here was inevitable. But if he had to die today, he would die with honor. He would show the Galra what it meant to be human. He raised his eyes to the emperor’s box. Shiro knew him from the machine-like glow of his eyes. Zarkon was watching.

Shiro said a prayer and went forward.

Galcia fixed on him while he was still half the pit away. While he was distracted, the handlers dropped the restraints and sprinted for the safety of the lower level. Galcia moved slowly, swaying slightly on his large feet. The movement was subtle, but Shiro noticed it like a sudden change in pitch. Fatigue? Galcia watched him with impassive eyes. Did he have any concept of what they were doing here? From the cautious way the handlers had moved around him, Shiro suspected Galcia had no loyalty.

Galcia stumbled again, more noticeably this time. A murmuring went up in the crowd. Shiro caught a glimpse of Jumi among the pool of handlers pressed up against the bars to watch the fight. She was the only one who wasn’t looking at Galcia. There was a curious look on her face. Triumph.

A bell rang to signal the beginning of the fight. Galcia shrieked and ran toward him. Shiro gasped at his speed, bending forward with his sword in hand, and let his terror flow through and out of him. He avoided the first blow by inches; the second grazed his left shoulder. He gritted his teeth to bear the sting and watched for Galcia’s next movement, but Galcia staggered again, this time backwards, and left his stomach exposed.

Shiro lunged at him. He was surprisingly calm. The regular sounds of the arena seemed very far away. The sword easily pierced through the armor on Galcia’s stomach, and Galcia went down hard enough that the ground shook.

Immediately, the crowd turned on him. Scattered shouts to kill him rained down—likely the few that had bet against him. Shiro wiped sweat from his eyes. That sword shouldn’t have been able to penetrate armor, yet it had gone in as easily as one of Commander Holt’s drills. Galcia bled from his stomach. Blood had saturated the armor and the sand where he lay, staining it a morbid blue.

The audience grew reckless at Shiro’s lack of action and began to throw things into the pit. An announcement came on overhead, demanding they stop, but the jeering continued. From above, Zarkon raised one hand and ordered Galcia killed. His voice silenced the crowd.

Shiro’s instinct was to throw down the sword, to refuse Zarkon’s order, but if there was any truth to what Jumi had said, winning this fight would give him access to the emperor. Galcia would eventually be killed by someone else. At least Shiro could ensure it would be humane, and he would dedicate his remaining energy and time to helping the resistance.

He planted a foot on Galcia’s back and aimed the sword for the base of his neck.

Shiro didn’t feel the claws that took his arm. Galcia moved faster than the crowd could react, and when they began to shout, he stared curiously at the red, red blood flowing down his thigh. There was nothing left below his elbow. The sword had fallen along with his own arm, lying at a distance like a gruesome Halloween decoration.

Handlers were running toward them in slow motion, like things moving under water, shouting words he couldn’t hear. They bound Galcia in chains.

Shiro’s ears buzzed and weariness overtook him. Hands he couldn’t see lowered him to the ground and applied a tourniquet to his arm to stop the bleeding. The sand beneath him was warm and wet. It wouldn’t be more than a minute before he lost consciousness.

He should’ve thrown down the sword. He should’ve run. Adam had been right not to wait for him.

The arena grew dimmer each time he blinked, until he couldn’t see it anymore, but he wasn’t afraid. He took solace in the gray. The pain was as far away as the voices, as far as the Earth he would never see again. Finally, he closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Castle of Lions**

**Present day**

 

He’d slept in his clothes again. It had been so long since Keith had gotten a full night’s rest, he’d stopped bothering with sleepwear. Unlike Lance, he’d never shown up to the bridge in slippers. He was lying on top of the covers, jacket bunched around his neck leaving his stomach and wrists uncovered, cold where they had been exposed to the air. His gloves were still on, shoes somewhere on the floor. The metal chain from the ID tags pressed against his cheek. He tucked them back inside his shirt and sat up.

A call from the bridge had woken him. He’d finally managed to fall asleep and was struggling to maintain consciousness now, knowing he needed to report. He’d been dreaming when he’d heard Allura’s voice through the ship’s intercom.

How long he’d been asleep, he didn’t know. The ship kept Altean time, but it made no more innate sense to Keith now than it had ten months ago, as foreign to an Arizona boy as hearing the temperature given in Celsius. Seconds, minutes, centuries—those were concepts bound to Earth, words that had been created to bring sense to its rotation, to its orbit around the sun. Concepts of _day_ and _night_ held no meaning for people on planets with atmospheres too thick for starlight to penetrate, or on twilight worlds in a viable zone that never altered. Those people couldn’t understand the loneliness of a night on Earth, the relief found in sunrise. But no matter the counter, or what words did or did not exist to explain it, time moved endlessly forward throughout the desolation of space.

Keith was often glad the quarters on the ship didn’t have windows.

He struggled upright and lowered his face to his hands, resting his forehead against his thumbs. A few deep breaths and he would easily fall asleep again. The lure was tempting. Even Lance had seemed to be concerned about his well-being lately and had offered him coffee three mornings in a row.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and let his head hang low to stretch his back, holding in a deep breath and counting the seconds before he exhaled. He was still sore from the fight on the Balmera, but his body was young and quick to recover. He’d be fine with a few more days of rest and Hunk’s mystery tea, which tasted like mushrooms but was a wonder at reducing inflammation. If he chased it with food it wasn’t too bad, sort of like the clear soup at a sushi place not far from the Garrison that Shiro adored and Keith had tolerated because it was cheap.

If he’d known they’d probably never eat there together again, Keith wouldn’t have suggested pizza the night before Shiro left for Kerberos.

“Lights.”

Pseudo-nocturnal blue gave way to the harsh artificial daylight that flooded most of the ship. Keith squinted and waited for his eyes to water.

It had been eight hundred thirty-six days since he’d seen Shiro. A worthless measurement in this quadrant, on an Altean ship, but it was the only way he knew to count. He’d begun counting since the day the ship had left on the Kerberos mission, and he had never stopped counting—not after Adam gave up, not after the Holts crash-landed in the desert with altered memories of their escape from a Galra prison, not after the Garrison declared Shiro missing and presumed dead. It had become routine to update the count, first on Earth and now at the edge of a galactic empire. He’d been hopeful at first. If the Holts had escaped Galra hands, Shiro couldn’t be far behind; but that hope had faded the farther they got from Earth, the more time that passed with no word of him.

Pidge had been the most sympathetic, writing a program to help him scan alien radio chatter for mentions, but even she had seemingly given up the search. Lately, her glasses framed a look of false hope. He touched the only photograph he had of them, affixed to the wall inside his bunk. They’d taken it at the launch the day Shiro left. Shiro had held the camera too high and Keith was smiling.

Eight hundred thirty-six days. He updated the count for fear of what would happen to him if he stopped.

* * *

Outside of his quarters, the ship’s lights were at half-brightness to simulate night, not enough to fully wake him. He yawned as he walked. Often the castle was so hectic it was hard to concentrate, but times like this it was quiet enough that Keith could hear his breath echo in the corridor, the playful scurry of Allura’s mice. He preferred it noisy. The silence gave him too much room to think.

The other Paladins had beaten him to the bridge. They were gathered around Allura’s platform and Matt was speaking to her. He was the only one in uniform. Lance, in striped pajamas, glared at him. The group grew quiet as Keith entered. From the way Hunk quickly looked out the viewport and Pidge rubbed her nose, Keith had the feeling they’d been talking about him again.

“Ah, there he is, our fearless leader,” Lance said. “Did we wake you from your beauty sleep?”

Pidge stared at him. “Lance, you have pillow marks on your face.”

“So does Keith!”

Keith ignored them. “Allura, what’s going on?”

“We’ve received a distress call from the planet Iluia. Galra forces have created an embargo on the planet; nothing is being allowed in or out. They’re forcing the inhabitants to mine a precious metal that’s found on Iluia in abundance but is rare elsewhere.”

“What’s it used for?” Matt said.

Allura took a deep breath and scowled. “Primarily weapons and personal adornments. It is hard to come by and highly prized. The Galra emperors wore crowns forged from it many deca-phoebs ago. Of course, I wouldn’t feel any better about the situation even if it were used for something practical.”

“What do we know about the inhabitants?” Keith said. “Is there any danger if we go to the surface?”

“It’s a friendly enough planet,” Coran said. “It’s got five moons and the oceans are bioluminescent. Just watch out for the phogs. They may look adorable, but the small ones bite.”

Hunk’s eyebrows drew together. “Are they venomous?”

“No, no, it’s more like a tickle. It’s the breags that’ll get you.”

“Thank you, Coran,” Allura said wearily.

“How far out are we?” Keith said.

Allura brightened and brought up a map. “This is our current position,” she said, pointing. “And this is the location of Iluia. With so many of the lenses damaged, I won’t open a wormhole, but the castle is already on course. It will take longer to get there this way, but we must have a means of escape at our disposal as long as there’s the possibility that Zarkon maintains his link to the Black Lion. We can be assured the Galra will keep the Iluians alive as long as there is metal to mine.”

Keith nodded. “All right. Everyone should rest while they can. Save your energy.”

“Agreed,” Allura said and turned her eyes on him. “Keith, how are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m fine.” Keith was met by six blank stares. After a few seconds, he sighed. “I’m a little sore.”

“That robeast really threw you around,” Lance said. “I could sort of understand with Blue, but the Black Lion...”

“Thanks, I was there.”

“I’m trying to express concern here! You were unconscious for a couple minutes after that blast.”

Allura interrupted before they could start fighting. “It’s fortunate Hunk was able to unlock new abilities in the Yellow Lion when he did. I had my doubts about you taking on that beast separately, but you fought well.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Hunk said. “Matt was there too.”

“That’s right, we all get credit,” Lance said brightly. “Except for Keith ‘cause he was unconscious.”

“Shut up, Lance,” Keith said.

“It was a joke! Geez, lighten up. We all know you did plenty down there. That’s how you got injured in the first place, trying to take that thing out by yourself.”

“I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“But we’re supposed to be a team,” Pidge said. “You’re the one who—”

“Enough already!”

Blood had made Keith’s face hot and he felt the same uncontrollable fury that had gotten him kicked out of the Garrison. The next thing he knew, Allura was touching his shoulder, and he lowered the fist he’d unconsciously raised.

“The good thing is the fight has shown the Galra what we are capable of,” Allura said.

“Yeah, well it’s also shown them what we’re not capable of,” Keith muttered, relaxing his hand.

“I think we did pretty well regardless,” Hunk said.

Matt got a solid hold on Keith’s upper arm. “You look awful. Like, really awful. Maybe you ought to use a healing pod for a while. We won’t reach Iluia for half a day.”

Keith looked at the floor. “Guys, I appreciate the concern. Seriously. But I swear I’m fine. I just need a couple hours of sleep. You should do the same.”

“Yes, sir,” Pidge said, wide-eyed. She’d stepped a full body length away from him. Keith opened his mouth, then abruptly turned and walked off the bridge.

“Sweet dreams,” called Lance.

* * *

Matt jogged to catch up with him in the corridor. He needed a haircut; his hair was nearly as long as Keith’s now and beginning to curl.

“You owe Pidge an apology.”

“I know. I’ll talk to her once I calm down.”

“You ever hit my sister, I’ll do you one better than you did Iverson.” Matt’s voice was calm, but Keith knew not to underestimate him.

“I hardly remember hitting him,” he murmured. “Mostly I remember getting dragged out.”

“Well, Lance told me you were pretty upset.”

“Yeah.”

Keith picked up his pace, hoping to lose him, but Matt matched him step for step until they had reached their quarters.

“Hey, so I know you’re tired,” he said, stopping Keith outside of his door. “But since we both know you’re not going to use a healing pod like you should, I was thinking we could do some team building exercises before we go out there.”

“What for? It didn’t help last time.”

“We need to do them regularly for them to be effective. Even if we could raise our success rate by a few points, it would make a big difference.”

“I’d do them every day if I thought it would change anything, but we have to face reality. Maybe what Lance said is right. Maybe it _is_ my fault we can’t form Voltron.”

“Lance is an idiot sometimes but he wasn’t being serious back there. He riles you up to get your attention.”

“I guess.”

“Keith, no one is blaming you for the team’s failure. This is on all of us. The Black Lion chose you for a reason. It wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t suitable to lead us.”

“Then it made a mistake. I never felt like I belonged in that lion, not from the first time I stepped foot in it.”

“You have to trust it knows better than you. You trusted your senses back on Earth, and you found me and my dad because of them. That was the Blue Lion’s influence, right? At least you’ve got experience being a pilot. I’m great at collecting samples, but trying to maneuver and locate a target at the same time?” Matt hooked a hand around the back of his neck. “You’re not the only one here who feels under qualified.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Keith rubbed his face. “I didn’t sleep again last night. Give me an hour and then I’ll meet you down in the training room.”

Matt stared down the hallway for a while. When he turned back, his face was softer. “Why don’t we resume the team building stuff after we handle the embargo. I’ll make up a schedule and send everyone a copy.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Keith’s throat felt tight. He opened the door to his room. “I’ll see you when we get there.”

Matt’s room was across from his. He went to his own door, then paused and turned around. “I know me saying this doesn’t make things easier, but Shiro was a good friend. I miss him too.”

 _Was_. All this time they’d spent coasting through space with a pair of ten-thousand-year-old aliens and five robotic lions—Matt had never had a problem swallowing any of it. But Shiro still being alive, that’s where he drew the line.

Keith felt tired. His eyes had finally begun to water. He swiped at them with his sleeve and walked into the dark room and didn’t turn on the light.

* * *

Iluia appeared almost black from space, a lopsided sphere orbiting twin red stars. Three of its moons were pale and cratered like Earth’s, but the fourth and fifth were hard to see without the ship’s navigation system to pinpoint their locations. As the castle made its approach, the planet’s faint ring became visible, encircling the planet and extending a great distance from it. Allura was careful not to navigate too close to it; at the ring’s edge orbited an elongated Galra craft with a large ion cannon mounted to its top. The cannon was inactive, the ship’s barrier down.

The five Paladins stood in uniform in front of the viewport.

“They don’t seem to have detected us,” Allura said.

“What do you think?” Matt asked.

“It’s pretty,” Lance said. “Reminds me of satellite pictures of Earth at night.”

“He’s asking what you think about the ship,” Pidge said.

“Oh.”

Keith crossed his arms and scowled. “We can’t go down to the surface until their weapons system is out of order. If they fire on the planet, who knows what the casualties will be like.”

“My cloaking device is working,” Pidge said. “I should be able to get past them undetected. I won’t even show up on their scanners.”

“I want you to take me as close as you can to that ship,” Keith said. “Then take the Green Lion and head to the surface. Let the Iluians know we’re here. The rest of you, wait for my signal, then head down to the surface with Pidge and help secure it.”

“You want us to wait here?” Matt said.

Keith nodded.

“What are you gonna do?” Lance said.

“Board the ship and set explosives.”

“Not this again,” said Allura behind them.

“Keith, I thought we just talked about doing things differently,” Matt said.

Keith shook his head. “There’s less of a chance I’ll be detected if I go by myself. It’s not like this is the first Galra ship I’ve infiltrated.”

“You hardly made it out of the last one!” Lance said.

“But I got out,” Keith said.

“By about six seconds. This ship is ten times that size! We’ve never taken down something this big.”

“There are other ways to take dismantle that ship,” Allura said. “More effective ways.”

“I’ve been sneaking onto Galra ships ever since you sent me and Matt to find the Red Lion,” Keith said. “How is this any different?”

“We had no other choice at that point, but if you form Voltron—”

Keith put his hands on his hips. “Princess, we’re able to form Voltron maybe ten percent of the time. We just proved that again on the Balmera.”

“What about the castle’s defense system?” Hunk sad. “Can it take down something that big?”

“Possibly, but if backup should arrive, the castle has no way to quickly escape,” Allura said. “We have to maintain a distance, but I can protect you from here.”

“What if Keith doesn’t get off the ship before it explodes this time?” Pidge said.

“I’ll get off the ship. Besides, these suits are pretty tough.”

Lance frowned. “We should be taking out that cannon.”

“Lance is right,” Matt said. “The rest of us shouldn’t be sitting around when there’s something we can do. In any case, we should have a backup plan in case the explosives don’t work. They might find you on board.”

“And if they do, they’ll know a ship’s nearby,” said Pidge.

Keith shook his head. “I’m not putting any more people in harm’s way than I have to.”

“Sorry, Keith,” Hunk said. “But I agree with Matt and Lance.”

Lance grinned. “Aw, thanks, Hunk.”

“I agree too,” said Pidge

Keith closed his eyes and recited something Shiro used to say to him when Keith rushed a simulation, a platitude he’d found obnoxious at first but that had grown on him when he’d realized Shiro was actually sincere. _Patience yields focus_. He recalled those words in Shiro’s voice and took a breath.

“Fine,” Keith said. “What’s your idea, Lance?”

Lance nodded. “Hunk and me, we take out the ion cannon so the Galra ship can’t fire on the Iluians. Matt can use his jaw blade to take out the ship’s communications system so they can’t call for help. They’ll be sitting ducks.”

“What if they run?” Hunk said.

“They won’t,” Coran said. “They’re too proud for that.”

“I believe they will stay and fight,” Allura said. “But as soon as they realize they’re under attack, they’ll send out drone fighters.”

“The booster rockets are working now that I solved that exploding issue,” Pidge offered. “Maybe we can draw the fighters away with one of the pods.”

“That won’t draw them all,” Matt said.

“Then I’ll work fast,” Keith said.

“How many minutes are we talking?”

“Small handheld explosives will be most effective,” Coran said. “But on a ship that size, you’ll need to place them in several positions within the ship for the explosions to have any effect.”

“I can be in and out in ten,” Keith said. “Wait until I’m on board and Pidge is clear, then take out that cannon.”

“We’re on it,” Lance said.

“Don’t wait around for me. As soon as I’m clear of the ship, I’ll call for Black to pick me up and I’ll meet you all on the surface.”

“Lance, Keith.” Allura folded her hands together. “I understand your reasoning behind this plan, but you have the most powerful weapon the universe has ever known at your disposal. You must learn to use it.”

“If you don’t like how I lead, find someone else.”

She set her mouth.

“Be careful,” Coran said.

“I will,” Keith said. “Everyone, get to your lions. Pidge, you and I will head down first.”

* * *

Keith had never been praised for his patience. Act first, then deal with the consequences—that had always been his strategy. He gripped the back of Pidge’s seat, toes restless in his boots as he watched the dot representing the Green Lion disappear from the view screen. Homemade cloaking device. At fifteen, he’d been knocking over convenience stores for energy shots and beef jerky. Pidge was something else. Keith had never met Commander Holt, but if he was anything like Pidge, it was no wonder Shiro had been excited when he’d been assigned the Kerberos mission.

“Maybe they should’ve given it to someone else,” he’d said, mouth half-filled with pizza, half a sofa away from Keith in Shiro’s apartment. Shiro had worn navy sweatpants with the Garrison logo printed on each leg, and his hair had been damp from the shower, slicked back from his forehead. Keith hadn’t gone to that apartment much lately, not since Shiro had accepted the mission. He was always busy with briefings or fitness tests. Medical exams. That day, he’d been packing and Keith had offered to buy dinner.

It had been selfish to wish Shiro would reject the job and become a full-time flight instructor or take on commercial pilot work. Shiro never told him explicitly, but Keith was pretty sure he’d already had that conversation with Adam and it hadn’t gone the way Shiro had hoped. He’d looked depressed, sighing often that last day together, and Adam hadn’t come home.

Keith should have said, “They gave it to the best pilot” or “I’m real proud of you”—something like the motivational crap Shiro was always feeding him. What he’d said instead was, “You’ve got sauce on your face” and nicked an old pair of ID tags Shiro kept pinned to the wall before he left.

They’d hugged goodbye the next morning, the last Shiro had ever given him. Keith hadn’t seen Adam at the launch. He’d watched until the ship carrying Shiro away from him had vanished in the sky, and on his way home found twenty dollars for the pizza in his pocket.

Pidge looked over her shoulder at him. “Is this close enough? I can land on the hull. You should be able to cut through it.”

“See if you can get alongside that opening.”

“It looks like a shuttle bay.”

“Drop me off just past it.” He cleared his throat. “Also, I was out of line earlier. I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

Keith adjusted his jet pack and activated his helmet’s microphone. “Matt, Lance, you copy?”

“Loud and clear,” Matt said.

“We’ve reached the ship. I’m going to try and enter through a shuttle bay. Be ready to start your approach.”

“Don’t you worry about us,” Lance said. “This isn’t exactly our first rodeo.”

“I’ll catch you on the surface.”

That first leap into space was always breathtaking. No matter how many times he’d done it, Keith expected to sink as he would in water, to be crushed by the devastating expanse of blackness that seemed to press in on all sides, but there was nothing. No resistance. His ineffectiveness against it had never stopped being terrifying. He hung suspended outside of the Green Lion listening to himself breathe until the hatch had closed, then waved Pidge off.

The jet pack made a soft whirring noise as he approached the hull of the Galra ship. The exteriors of Galra ships weren’t as smooth as Altean designs, but they were still difficult to hold on to. He activated his suit’s thrusters and spread his limbs against the side. If they detected him on their scanners, he’d likely be dismissed as passing debris from the planet’s ring.

The bay doors were small. It was probably the dock for a shuttle used to travel back and forth from the surface. They hadn’t seen anything leave the bay, which meant a shuttle might be making its return trip, but it wasn’t within visual range. He propelled himself along the side of the ship, keeping one hand on the hull for stability, and used his hands to move him the last few feet, until he had reached the opening. He glanced inside. There were two immobile sentries by a door leading to the ship’s interior, but there was no movement. No signs of life.

He took out the sentries with twin blasts and swung around to the inside of the bay, propelled by the ship’s gravity. His feet hit the metal decking and he ran toward the doors.

“I’m in,” he said and used one of the sentry’s robotic arms to activate the door’s sensor.

“We’re on our way,” said Lance.

Galra ships had a way of unsettling him. Keith could hardly see to the end of the corridor and took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the low reddish light, then made a right and searched for a passage to the center of the ship. He startled when an alarm blared.

“Attention all hands. Attack underway. To your stations.”

There were running feet in adjacent corridors and overhead, voices urging others to action. He pressed himself against the wall when footsteps came down the main passage, holding his breath until they’d gone past. Lance whooped in his ears and Keith muted his intercom. Matt and Lance’s attack was a good distraction, but he needed to concentrate. The crew would be occupied defending the ship and unlikely to discover him, but he wasn’t going to invite capture.

The cargo bay was located in the belly of the ship, a cavernous space rising three floors that held crates of the metal mined down on the surface. It would be a shame to blow it up along with the rest of the ship, but opening the bay doors would give away his position. He affixed three explosives to the cargo bay’s interior walls and set the timers for eight minutes, syncing them with his watch before propelling to the ceiling. He placed two more and escaped out a door off of the third-story catwalk.

“Five units in place,” he said. “I’m going deeper.”

The ship’s corridors strobed orange with warning lights. The ship shuddered from surface blasts—Hunk must have joined the fight—and Keith staggered but kept running until he could hear the ship’s engines more clearly. The stern had to be close. A lone soldier guarded the entrance to the engine room. Keith slipped easily behind him and planted the last of the explosives on the main turbine. Even if the ship didn’t break apart entirely, they’d have no way to run.

He synced the timers. Six minutes left. Plenty of time to cut his way out or find an escape pod. There were probably a few in the cargo bay. That was the safest option, so he returned the way he’d come—or he thought he had. Had there been this many doors a minute ago?

There had to be signs indicating the emergency exits. Humans couldn’t be the only species with safety protocol. Keith spotted small, illuminated arrows darting along the edges of the corridor that he’d originally mistaken for ambient lighting. They pointed to his right. He followed them down another passage that brought him to an intersection. The arrows here ran both ways, so he was confident he’d found the outermost corridor.

“Halt,” a voice growled from behind him and someone began running. “You!”

All of the doors along the corridor were closed. There was nowhere to hide. Another second or two and he’d be caught. Just thinking about what Lance’s reaction would be pissed him off. With no other ideas, he slapped his hand against the nearest door sensor, eyes widening when it glowed pink and the door opened. Security must have been lifted because of the attack. Keith drew his knife and whipped inside, relieved when the door slid closed behind him.

A glance told him the room he’d entered was empty. Safe for the moment, Keith put his ear to the door and held his breath. The person running went past and continued down the corridor. A second followed. Maybe they hadn’t seen him after all.

He waited a few seconds before going out again, taking in details of the room. It was some kind of community area. A large screen on the wall flashed the word “Alert” in Galra script. Chairs had been pushed back haphazardly by whoever had abandoned half-eaten plates of food and bottles dripping condensation.

To his right, something caught his eye: a blue glow originating from another room beside the screen. The door was open. Keith inched around the frame in case someone had stayed behind, but that room was also unoccupied. A cloak sagged over the back of a chair.

The glow was coming from multiple screens arranged in a four-by-four grid on the wall. Each screen broadcasted live images from different parts of the ship and there was a computer on the desk. A security office? Keith glanced at his watch. Just under three minutes remained. He had one explosive left, enough to blast through the exterior hull. He was cutting it close, but he’d never have an opportunity like this again.

He kicked the chair out of the way and bent over the console, scanning the computer screen for any words he understood. His heart picked up when he thought he might’ve stumbled on prison records, but the report had to do with an Iliuan who had attempted to disrupt mining operations and had been taken into custody. There _had_ to be a way to access information from across the empire. These ships had to be networked somehow and share a central information system—it’d be chaos otherwise—but the only data he could find was related to this ship. There wasn’t time to call Pidge for help. He had two minutes before the explosives went off, and if the team found out what he was doing right now, they’d mutiny.

The ship shuddered from another surface attack. Keith lost his footing and the chair rolled into the wall. But the disruption had drawn his eyes to an icon he hadn’t noticed before, a purple circle with the center cut out. It brought up a new screen. He recognized the word “empire” and for a split-second he thought his luck had actually turned around.

No connection.

Of course there was no connection. Lance and Matt had taken out communications for the entire ship. Keith cursed and drove his fist into the screen so hard it cracked. The blue lights flickered and blurred.

It was then that he heard the footsteps behind him, that he heard the unmistakable ring of a knife being pulled from its scabbard.

He held still, then in a swift move, whipped his own knife from his belt and turned on his attacker, bringing the blade under his throat. The attacker was a tall Galran with only a strip of white hair down the center of his pale head. He wore the uniform of the empire and his face was obscured by a half mask that covered his mouth and nose. His eyes lacked expression, as steady as a sentry’s.

“Who are you?” Keith growled.

The Galran glanced down as if to study the blade Keith held to his throat, then lowered his own.

“There’s no time,” he said in a deep voice. “We must go.”

Keith applied more pressure on the knife. “I asked you a question.”

“I will answer anything you wish once we are off of this ship, but we have only moments before it explodes.”

“I’ve got a full minute,” Keith said.

“We should’ve coordinated our plans,” said the Galran, turning his wrist. A counter ticked off a unit of time. There were nineteen remaining.

“Shit.” Keith’s sense of self-preservation outweighed his desire for answers. He shoved the Galran aside with the intent of running, but the Galran captured Keith’s wrist with twice the strength of a human.

“Come with me.”

“Let go. Hey!”

The Galran dragged Keith by the arm back through the main room. A warning message was still flashing on the large screen, but just as the Galran pulled him through the door, Keith noticed something. Behind the flashing script was the blurry image of a humanoid in movement. It had been taken at a distance from behind, a man with broad shoulders and long, dark hair.

“Wait, I need to go back,” Keith said. “Let me go back.”

“There is no time.”

“You don’t understand!”

He tried to free his arm from the Galran’s grasp, but the Galran was too strong, the room already behind them. Keith shouted in frustration and ran with him down the corridor, toward a junction where it dead-ended. On their approach, the Galran took a device from a satchel at his waist and hurled it at the wall. It exploded, blasting a hole in the hull large enough for them to fit through.

Keith leaped first. The nothingness of space took him. From within the ship came the first booms, the sounds of explosions, the horrible shriek of metal as it began to wrench apart. Keith switched on his jet pack and moved himself a safe distance from the wreck. He activated his microphone.

“Everyone, get away from the ship. It’s about to blow.”

“Keith!” Lance yelled. “Where the heck have you been? We thought something had happened.”

“I muted my helmet.”

“You scared us!” Pidge said. “We thought you’d been captured.”

“Yell at me later. Where is everyone?”

“We’re on the surface,” Matt said.

“I’m heading back to the castle. I’ll be down shortly.”

The few drones that had still been flying around the Galra ship lost momentum and went dark. Keith stopped a safe distance from the ship and closed his eyes, willing the Black Lion to come to him. He felt it respond and switched off his jet pack to wait. The Galran had followed him. Together they watched the second set of explosions as the devices Keith had planted went off, and what remained of the ship was engulfed in fire.

He’d only seen the picture for a fraction of a second, but it had stopped his heart. He’d known in an instant that it was Shiro. There was no one else it could be. The picture was gone, burning with the rest of the ship, but Keith had seen it. He’d seen Shiro, and the confirmation that he was alive reinvigorated him.

The Black Lion scooped them up from among the rubble. Keith strapped into the pilot’s seat, concerned about turning his back towards someone who’d held a knife to him, but he had no choice. The Galran remained at the back of the cockpit, standing at attention, arms rigid at his sides.

“Can’t you take that mask off?” Keith said.

The Galran blinked yellow eyes and complied.

“You might want to hold on to something.”

Black stretched its legs and surged forward. Keith got on the intercom.

“Allura, I’m on my way back, plus one.”

“Keith...” The note of hope in her voice was enough to make his heart break a little. “Did you find...”

Keith cut her off. “He’s Galran. I’ll explain once we’re on board.”

“You’re going to bring a Galran onto the ship?”

“I don’t have a choice. Meet us in the hangar.”


	3. Chapter 3

Allura was waiting with restraints. The Galran put up no resistance, extending both of his arms and waiting as Coran secured his wrists and stripped him of his weapons. Close up, the skin on his face showed evidence of long-healed injuries and the handle of his blade, which Keith turned over in his hands, had worn to a soft polish from frequent use. It looked remarkably like his own, the same strange markings. Keith felt uneasy but said nothing in front of Allura. She stood a distance behind him, breathing heavily.

“Who are you?” Keith said to the Galran.

The Galran seemed bothered by the ship’s interior lights and squinted against them, casting his gaze downward. “I am Ulaz.”

“Why did you save me?”

“I have been searching for the Paladins of Voltron. It was fortunate I saw you on board the ship or you might have been killed.”

“Why did you blow up your own ship?” Keith said.

Ulaz didn’t blink. “I am a member of an order called the Blade of Marmora. We are working to bring an end to Zarkon’s reign.”

Allura took a step toward him. “Galra working against Zarkon?”

Ulaz nodded. “We have existed for some time. Our numbers are not great, but they are increasing. Recently, we have been able to gain access to members of the high command.”

“You said you’ve been looking for us,” Keith said.

“Yes. I had hoped to connect with an Earthling who had been taken prisoner by the Galra, but it was necessary to expedite his escape before I was able to make contact.”

Keith suppressed a shiver. “What Earthling?”

“A scientist,” Ulaz said. “He was of great interest to Zarkon. They were displeased by his escape, his and one other’s.”

“That must have been the Holts,” Coran whispered.

Keith tried to keep his breath steady. “What did you want with them? Why help them escape?”

“We had become aware of the Blue Lion’s presence on your planet. We wanted to ensure it was found by humans before the Galra could intercept it. I had hoped to provide them with exact coordinates, but as I said, I was not able to meet them personally.”

“And what do you want with us?” Allura said to Ulaz.

“We seek a partnership.”

“You expect Voltron to form an alliance with the Galra?”

“We seek an ally against a common enemy.”

“No,” she said immediately.

“Coran,” said Keith. “Take Ulaz to the lockup. Give him whatever food he wants. I’ll be down later to talk some more.”

“Thank you,” Ulaz said, bowing his head.

Coran gestured toward the corridor. “This way.”

“Hang on,” Keith said. “That room you pulled me out of. There was a picture of a human on the screen. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Ulaz said. “I didn’t see it.”

“What is that screen used for?”

“Primarily entertainment. It’s a recreation room.”

“Entertainment? What kind?”

“It may have been a gladiator pit.”

“You mean like fighting?”

“Yes.”

“What picture?” Allura said. “Keith, what are you talking about?”

“I saw a picture of Shiro on that ship.”

“Are you certain it was him?”

“How many other humans do you think there are out here?” Keith turned back to Ulaz. “I have to find him. The fights, where do they take place?”

“Without seeing the image myself, I couldn’t say. There are hundreds of pits across the empire. I’m sorry. I do not follow the sport. Perhaps someone on my base would know more.”

“What base?”

“Keith,” Allura said sternly. She nodded toward Coran, who inclined his head and escored Ulaz out, and Keith turned away in defeat, pressing his face into his hands.

 _Hundreds_. He didn’t even know where to start. Maybe Pidge could find something. He breathed until the urge to hit something had passed.

“Keith...” Allura said. From her compassionate tone, he knew she meant to comfort him, but he wasn’t in the mood for kindness. He steeled himself and turned around.

“Princess, I know how you feel about the Galra, but right now we can use every ally we’ve got.”

“The Galra killed my family and destroyed my planet. Do not tell me how I feel.”

“If they can help us bring down Zarkon, we have to consider this.”

When he looked at her, her eyes seemed far away. “Millions, Keith. Millions of innocent people. The Galra have no regard for life. Look what they were doing to this planet for merely trinkets.”

“All the more reason to beat him as fast as we can.”

Her gaze sharpened. “You would be willing to trust that Galra?”

“He could’ve left me to die, but he didn’t.”

She turned her head away, toward the corridor where Coran and Ulaz had gone. It was empty now. “I know you’re desperate to find your friend, but I need some time, and it’s critical we bring this planet into our alliance. Go down to the surface with the others. I’m sure the Iluians would like to see all five paladins.”

“What about you? You haven’t been off this ship in a while. I’m sure they’d like to see the princess.”

Allura nodded tightly. “You’re right. I should come with you as a matter of diplomacy.”

“Paladins,” Keith said, activating his intercom. “What’s the situation?”

“Keith! What’s taking you so long?” Lance said. There was murmuring in a language Keith couldn’t understand and someone was chewing over the line.

“Yeah, the food down here’s great,” said Hunk.

Keith shut his eyes. “What’s the situation with the Iluians?”

“Everyone’s accounted for. There were only a few Galrans on the surface,” Matt said. “We have them rounded up.”

“Yeah!” Pidge said. “Matt and I figured out a way to extend the range of the portable force-field so that we could detain more than one per—”

“That’s great,” Keith interrupted. “Allura and I will be down shortly.”

“Bring your swimsuit,” Lance said. Someone whooped and it was followed by a splash.

Allura and Keith walked together to the Black Lion.

“Are there more humans like Lance?” Allura asked. “He’s very...interesting.”

“That’s one word for it,” Keith said and walked up the incline into the lion.

“You don’t like him?” she said.

“As long as he flies as well as I know he can, I don’t care how he acts.” Keith put his hands on the controls, anticipating the unsettling tug in his mind as it connected with the lion. “Black, take us down.”

* * *

The descent into Iluia’s atmosphere was surreal. Although it was the planet’s equivalent of daytime, the suns it orbited were dim red dwarfs, and they cast the surface into a perpetual reddish twilight. The ocean and the soil were black, and the planet itself was desert hot, with only half of Earth’s gravity and an abundance of oxygen. Keith hadn’t seen Lance stop leaping since the Black Lion touched down.

The mining town they’d liberated hugged the coastline, and the other four lions stood in a row beside the last structure, as though they were gazing out across the water. Keith brought Black into line with them and removed his helmet once they were outside, drying his forehead with the back of his wrist. He’d only been out to the ocean once as a boy when he and his dad had taken a road trip to San Diego. The waves here were smaller but the sound just as rhythmic. Dark water rushed up like tongues around their feet.

“What a beautiful world,” Allura said.

“It is, now that you’re here,” Matt said, approaching them. “They’ve asked us all to stay for a feast.”

“I am hungry,” she said.

“Allura, I want to talk to Matt for a minute,” Keith said. “You go on ahead.”

As soon as she’d left them, Matt punched him in the shoulder. “What the heck was with you turning off your intercom earlier?”

“I couldn’t think with Lance yelling in my ears.”

“You’re our leader, Keith. The leader can’t go off on his own and leave us. It’s like a body walking around without a head. In our case, you’re _literally_ the head!”

“I said I’m sorry. I won’t do it next time, okay? Calm down.”

Matt rubbed his face. “It’s not just the intercom.”

“Then what?”

“You think nobody believes you’re capable of leading us, but that’s not the problem. You’re the only one who thinks you can’t cut it. The problem is you don’t trust the rest of us to have your back. You always do things by yourself. That’s why this doesn’t work.”

“You said earlier it wasn’t my fault that we can’t—”

“This has nothing to do with the lions. I’m talking about what Pidge was trying to say earlier about the team, Keith.”

“We blew up the ship. These people are fine. Look, they’re holding a festival. Have you ever seen Lance in such a good mood? Even Allura’s dancing.”

Matt snorted quietly and watched them for a few seconds with a wistful expression. “They do look happy.”

“You should go dance with her.”

“Maybe once all of this is over.”

They were quiet for a while, watching the ocean.

“I shouldn’t have turned off the intercom,” Keith said.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh yeah. We’ve got a Galran in custody asking to work with us.”

Matt turned his head. “We have a what?”

“He claims he’s part of some order trying to bring Zarkon down from the inside. Says he tried to get in contact with your dad before he escaped.”

“What do you think?”

“His bombs went off before mine.”

“Allura’s not going to welcome an alliance with the Galra.”

“She made that pretty clear. I think you and I need to talk to him alone.”

“You want to leave her out of negotiations?”

“I want to hear what he’s got to say. That’s not happening if she’s in the room.”

“I don’t like sneaking around,” Matt said.

“We’ll fill her in on the details once we’ve talked to him.”

“I guess.” Matt glanced over his shoulder to where Lance was chasing Hunk and Pidge with something on a skewer. “You want to do it right now? They probably won’t miss us if we head up.”

“Nah, you should join ‘em. And go take your samples, I know you’re dying to. Ulaz can wait a couple hours.”

“You should join too.” Grinning, Matt jogged off toward the rest of the team.

Keith didn’t move from the shoreline. The last two years had been one bizarre incident after another, beginning with the inexplicable pull Keith had felt to the desert, the return of the Holts to Earth, the discovery of the Blue Lion and later Arus. The lion had carried him to the Galra, to the very people who’d taken Shiro. It couldn’t all be a coincidence. And now they had someone in custody who’d been instrumental in the Holts’ escape and might be able to help him learn Shiro’s whereabouts.

It killed him to wait, like it had killed him on Earth when he’d heard the words “pilot error” and thrown a fist at Iverson’s bad eye. He hated sitting idly. If Ulaz’s guess was correct, if Shiro was being forced to fight for sport, every minute they wasted here meant his life. But even if they knew his location, they couldn’t open a wormhole without new lenses.

The twin suns descended below the planet’s horizon and night was upon them, as dark as space. Keith prepared to join the others when from beneath the surface of the water, something caught his eye: golden sparks of light that spread like hands and seemed to reach for him. Soon, the entire surface of the ocean was aglow, and the warm gold light reflected off of the town, the lions, the faces of the other paladins who had turned to admire it.

Keith raised his eyes to the stars, tracing constellations he had no stories for. Shiro was out there somewhere in the limitless glittering black, and Keith was going to find him no matter how long it took, no matter what he had to give up. He would never stop searching. He brought a hand to his chest, over the place where the ID tags touched his skin, and when he returned his gaze to the water, the light was almost blinding.

“Shiro, I wish you could see this.”

* * *

They always booed when he entered the arena.

As soon as his name was announced, they’d start, and they’d jeer at him the entire walk from the doorway cut into the arena wall, to the center of the pit where his opponents waited. He didn’t react to the jeers, the same way he didn’t provoke whoever he was fighting. The audience wanted spectacle, and Shiro wanted no part of it. He was known as the champion who wouldn’t kill, but because he fought hard and well and was undefeated, his matches filled the stands with curious Galrans wondering if _this_ was the match that would break him. Jumi said his defeated opponents were sent to satellite pits or retired to labor camps. He’d never faced the same one twice.

“Your opponent today is called Suna. He has been manipulated by Haggar,” Jumi said as she dressed him for battle. They were in a preparation room off of the main passage and the door was closed. She had removed Shiro’s shirt and was smoothing oil over his chest and back. “I’m not certain what species he was originally. He is able to jump at great heights, but his weakness is his stamina. He should not last more than three rounds.”

She’d likely drugged him the way she drugged most of his opponents. Shiro took firm hold of his staff. It buzzed with latent quintessence and made his palms tingle. He wondered how much she would adjust it today.

“Give me that and lift your arms.” Jumi slid his chest plate into position and fastened it at his back. It covered his torso, leaving his arms exposed. Full armor was too heavy and too hot for him to wear on this planet. He’d nearly blacked out during that fight and would’ve been killed if Jumi hadn’t engineered it.

“How are your muscles?” she said. He flexed his prosthetic arm.

“Better, thank you. I think the frequent stimulation is helping. I’m not as tired as I was.”

“Unfortunately, I can only treat the symptoms. You will soon need advanced care.”

“I’m glad I’ve had this long,” Shiro said. “Is he armed?”

“He has serrated claws.” She connected something to his staff’s control panel, about the size of her thumb, and handed the staff back to him. “That should help.”

“Will it kill him?”

“No. Connect it to his bare skin and it should incapacitate his central nervous system long enough for you to detain him. You will only have a few moments.”

Shiro nodded. “Understood.”

“He is weak at his throat. The grip of your prosthesis should do it, but be careful to avoid injuring yourself. You’re expected in the emperor’s box after the fight.”

“Is the emperor here?”

The emperor hadn’t attended a fight since the match that had taken Shiro’s right arm, and while Shiro didn’t want to be in close quarters with him, any information they might obtain could be invaluable.

“The box is being used by Commander Sendak.”

“I see.”

“You aren’t resisting today?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Jumi looked at him smugly. “You could lose.”

“Would you allow it?”

“Eventually. Sendak boasts the more he drinks. Make sure to accept what you’re offered this time.”

“I promise to drink slowly.”

“I’ve adjusted the programming in your prosthesis to monitor your blood alcohol level. When it reaches a threshold, it will alert you.”

“Did you work out the recording issue?”

“No,” she said. “The scramblers are still in place. It will be necessary for you to remember everything you’ve heard precisely.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will. It’s time.”

Jumi escorted him to the arena level and waited with a weapon to his throat until the announcement for his match. The crowd reacted with their usual taunts. Even when he couldn’t understand what they were saying, he knew they were mocking him by their tone, but it didn’t phase him. The staff buzzed in his hand. He looked to the center of the ring where this new opponent waited, and nowhere else.

* * *

They dragged Suna’s enormous body unconscious from the field. Shiro’s staff had put out twice as much energy as it usually did, but it had taken several minutes before he got close enough to land a strike, and even then Suna had not gone down right away. Shiro had run him around the pit to tire him, stumbling twice, and taken a blow across the face.

They didn’t lead Shiro off of the field in restraints anymore. As he walked out, he detached the thumb-sized device Jumi had connected to the staff and lost it in the sand. He wiped blood from his lips. The air stung the gash across the bridge of his nose; it would be a while before it healed. He took his time exiting and followed Jumi down to the shower room. She scrubbed the blood and sand from his skin and quickly dressed him in clean clothing: a loose-fitting shirt tucked into a long garment that reached his ankles, cinched at the waist with a fine metal chain—a gift from one of Zarkon’s commanders. Jumi sprayed him with cologne and rubbed something into the cut on his face to stop the bleeding.

“This will leave a scar,” she scolded.

“But they won’t say the fight was rigged.”

“You should use your prosthesis more. That’s why they gave it to you.”

“No, thanks.”

“Use it for your own sake. Not theirs.”

“I don’t want to use it at all.”

“What’s done is done. You must accept it. If you are handed a sword in battle, you use it to slay your enemy, no matter who forged it.”

“If we ever get out of this place, Jumi, I think you have a real future in motivational products,” Shiro said. “Oh—was that a laugh? Did I actually get a laugh out of you?”

“Don’t get above yourself. You reminded me of my son.”

“I didn’t realize you had one.”

“We do not speak.” She put the lid back on the jar of salve and set it on a shelf, keeping her back to him. Her shoulders were rounded, her back tight. “He is loyal to Zarkon.”

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said, forgoing their earlier playfulness. “That must be difficult.”

“When this is over, I hope we can be reunited.” She faced him with her usual coolness. “The liquor will be strong tonight. You must eat something before you go up.”

* * *

The emperor’s box was situated on the opposite side of the arena, level with the first row of seating but separated by walls and an overhang that prevented access through the stands. The only way in was through a private elevator and hallway under constant surveillance. Jumi kept a weapon to Shiro’s back the entire walk.

The hallway leading to the box was long and dark like the corridors on a Galra ship. It was flanked with sentries. When they arrived at the last door, Shiro bent his face toward the eye scanner. The sentry positioned beside the door remained inert. Presently, a member of the arena’s security team came to the door: a towering Galran with a feline face.

“I’m delivering the human as requested,” Jumi said.

The guard swept his eyes over Shiro’s body. “Why is he not in restraints?”

“His security level has been downgraded.”

“I will kill you if I suspect you of anything,” the guard said to Shiro.

“I’m only here because I was summoned,” Shiro said.

The guard slapped him with the back of his hand. “You dare talk to me?”

The strike had split his lip. Shiro didn’t lick the blood away.

“I don’t understand what appeal this creature holds,” the guard said to Jumi. “You will wait here until they are through with him.”

Jumi nodded. “Understood.”

“You. Go inside.”

Shiro bowed his head and went through the door. The light inside the box was even dimmer than the corridor. It was a few seconds before Shiro’s eyes adjusted to the near darkness. The interior was about as large as a transport shuttle. Rather than stadium seating, it had a large round sofa centered in the room, three smaller sofas positioned around it, and multiple views screens affixed to the walls that broadcasted live footage from the arena below. The bar was tended by an old Galran who never spoke. In the shadowy corner opposite the door, Shiro could make out a pair of legs and the bare back of whatever creature was straddling them.

Shiro recognized Commander Sendak reclining on the circular sofa. He was surrounded by lower-ranking officers and a few of Shiro’s fellow fighters, who had been scrubbed and dressed and presented as he’d been. Sendak held a drink in one hand and turned his face toward Shiro as the guard approached with him. The orange lens in his right eye was the brightest point in the room. Shiro forced himself to focus on it.

“Good. Leave him,” Sendak said.

“He is not in restraints,” said the guard.

“I said leave him. I’ll take responsibility for anything that happens.”

“Very good.”

Sendak motioned to his left and three officers got up from where they had been sitting. Shiro obediently sat down in their place.

“What will you drink today?” Sendak said. He handed Shiro a handkerchief to clean his face.

He pressed the cloth to his lip. It came away pink.

“Whatever you’re having,” Shiro said.

Sendak looked pleased by that. He raised a finger and Shiro was quickly given a glass of something dark and sweet. It didn’t carry the fragrance of liquor, but the first sip burned his throat. He gritted his teeth to keep from showing it.

“A few more of those and _we_ will be the champions today,” Sendak laughed. He took a sip of his own drink. “You fought well.”

“Thank you, as always.”

“Tell me, does it not dishonor a human to leave your enemy alive?”

“That depends on the human.”

Sendak looked thoughtful. He swirled his drink around in the glass. “Your culture is primitive. Give it two, three thousand years and you’ll see things the way we do.”

“Do the Galra plan to let us survive that long?”

“Survival is offered to anyone who swears loyalty to the empire. You may not like our methods, but our empire has persisted for longer than your species’ entire existence. You would do well to learn from us.”

“You’ll never be able to convince the whole planet of that.”

“I don’t need to.”

Someone approached from the door. “Commander Sendak, you’re monopolizing the human.”

“Commander Trugg. I didn’t realize you’d be here today.”

The commander took a seat on an adjacent sofa and leaned imposingly over her legs, giving Shiro a once-over. “I don’t find your species attractive, but I wouldn’t throw you out of bed. You should sleep with me before you die.”

It was not the first time Shiro had been propositioned. He kept his eyes down.

“That’s a bad habit of yours,” Sendak said to the commander. “Sleeping with prisoners.”

“Everyone should have an interest. It’s good for the mind.”

“ _Victory_ is good for the mind. Did you receive my message?”

“You’re certain of the shipment date?”

“We have someone inside the manufacturing facility,” Sendak said. “The weapon is scheduled to be delivered in three phoebs.”

“Can’t we take it directly from there?”

Sendak shook his head. “Too much security. It would be obvious the job was from the inside.”

“What about Voltron?”

“Voltron is no threat,” Sendak said.

“I have access to unmarked cargo ships that we’ve apprehended, but my crew won’t stay silent without pay.”

“I’ll give you a tenth of the profits to divide as you will.”

“My crafts, my men. If you’re keeping the product, then I demand eighty percent.”

“Thirty,” Sendak countered.

“Three quarters.”

“Thirty-five.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Have you forgotten that I am not loyal to you?”

“Forty percent. I’m handling the sale, so the personal risk for me is great, and I have to pay off the informant.”

“Will you agree to cover any costs incurred?” she asked.

“Such as?”

“Loss of life or ship.”

“Forty-five percent,” Sendak said.

“Fifty or we have no deal.”

He touched a forefinger to his chin. “Fine. Fifty it is. To be transferred once the sale is complete.”

“How do I know the convoy will be there when you say?”

“If I show you my communications with the informant, will you be satisfied?”

Sendak took out a device and passed it to Trugg. She read the screen for a few moments, nodded, and handed it back.

“You’re certain you’re not being monitored?” she said.

“This device is for my personal use. It’s not accessible by high command.”

“I didn’t realize that was permitted,” she said.

Sendak smiled. “Zarkon is too weak to lead much longer. It’s necessary to have connections, don’t you think?”

“I was surprised you were involved in something this trivial,” Trugg said. She raised her finger to signal for a drink.

“I’m in need of funding,” Sendak said. “Have you pledged to any factions?”

“What makes you think I will not lead my own?”

That made Sendak laugh. “I admire your drive. But if you go up against me, I will eliminate you.”

“I would be offended by less. How will you send the coordinates?”

“I’ll give them to you now. That way, there’s no record of this conversation.”

“Go ahead,” she said. Sendak recited the string aloud, and Shiro continued to quietly sip his drink as if he weren’t there.

* * *

Jumi made more of a show than usual in harassing Shiro during the walk back to the prisoner level, berating his earlier performance in the arena for anyone who was listening as they went by.

“I apologize,” she said once she’d put him back into his cell and secured the door. “There were unannounced room seizes this afternoon. I’m on edge.”

They spoke quietly, close to the bars. The creatures currently imprisoned on either side didn’t use spoken language, so as long as they were quiet, they shouldn’t be overheard by anything that could compromise them. The floor had already gone lights out. Most of the other fighters were asleep.

“Seizes?” Shiro said, dizzy from the liquor. “Do you think they’re onto you?”

“I keep no physical evidence of my association with the Blades, but it means they suspect a traitor. Did you learn anything?”

“I have coordinates for you,” Shiro said and recited them slowly. Jumi repeated the string back to him to confirm it.

“What is this for?” she said.

“I think Sendak is planning to hijack a convoy carrying some sort of product. He didn’t say.”

“When?”

“In three phoebs. Commander Trugg is going to provide ships and crew. They’re selling off whatever the convoy is carrying and splitting the profits.”

“If this is a normal shipping route, we should be able to determine the origin of the shipments from the coordinates. It would have to be something worth stealing. A weapons system certainly would be.”

At the fall of footsteps, she glanced down the corridor, pressing herself close to the cell bars, into the shadows, so she would be harder to discover. She stayed there, silent, until the steps faded. No one came down the hall. It must have been an echo from a connecting corridor.

“Is there anything else?” she said.

“Sendak asked if the commander had pledged loyalty to any factions.”

“Her answer?”

“Vague. I don’t think she has.”

“I fear a civil war is inevitable if Sendak has stooped to this. It’s dishonorable.” Jumi rubbed her eyes. “I need to report in. I’m concerned about your condition. I want to have the Blades extract you immediately.”

“I want to do what I can while I’m able. You said yourself I don’t have much time.”

“They’re suspicious of you. You’re winning too easily.”

“I’ll drag things out more.”

“It would be a waste for you to die in that pit. You may be human, but the Blade of Marmora can use you. My intelligence reports that the paladins of Voltron are from your planet.”

“What is Voltron?”

“An ancient Altean weapon. The Blade of Marmora has worked tirelessly to prevent it from falling into Zarkon’s hands.”

“Sendak didn’t seem worried about it. When Trugg asked, he said it’s not a threat.”

“It should not be underestimated. An alliance with the paladins will be another step toward victory. You may be able to help us secure it.”

“If that’s where I’ll be most useful.”

There was another set of footsteps, more rapid than the last. Jumi pulled her hood down over her eyes. “You fought well. You don’t have anything scheduled for six days. Rest. I’ll try to have you out by then.” She sprinted away, as softly as a cat.

But she wasn’t the one who came for him six days later, and he never saw Jumi again.


	4. Chapter 4

Once they’d eaten and spent the requisite time on the planet visiting with the Iluians, Matt and Keith left first and went straight to the castle’s prison hold. 

“What’s the plan?” Matt said as they stood outside the door. “I’ve never interrogated someone before. Am I the good cop?”

“I think we should just try to figure out what he wants from us,” Keith said. “He gave me and Allura one story, but I want you to hear it directly.”

“But you don’t think he’s lying?”

“He saved my life back on that ship. If he’s our enemy, why would he bother?”

“So he could gain your trust and infiltrate us.”

“This is why I want you to talk to him,” Keith said. 

“Okay, I’m opening the door in three.”

Ulaz was being held in a suspended containment cell. His hands were bound at the wrists, and he was sitting upright with his eyes closed. Keith thought he might be sleeping. He nudged Matt in the side.

“If you got captured by the Galra, would you take a nap?” he asked.

“I was captured by them. And no, I couldn’t sleep for a couple days. None of us did. Shiro pretty much had to force me.”

Keith approached the cell. “Ulaz. We’re ready to listen to you.”

Ulaz sniffed and slowly opened his eyes. “Forgive me, I was conserving my energy.”

“This is Matt,” Keith said. “He’s my...right arm.”

“Hi,” Matt said. 

“I am Ulaz. It is an honor to speak with the paladins of Voltron.”

“I want you to tell him what you told me,” Keith said.

Matt listened patiently to Ulaz’s explanation. When Ulaz had finished speaking, Matt took a deep breath. 

“You’re the ones who helped me and my father escape?”

“Yes. I had hoped to make contact with you personally, but it was necessary to hasten your release when we learned of upcoming transfers.”

“What about the other human who was with them?” Keith said. 

Ulaz shook his head. “I don’t have information on his whereabouts. Once I return to my base, I may be able to access prison transfer records.”

“What were you doing on that ship?” Keith asked. 

“I was part of its medical staff.”

“You’re a doctor?” Matt said. 

“A medical technician. I used to be involved with the development of bionic technology, but I requested to be reassigned to this location when I learned that Voltron was gaining support in this quadrant. I had hoped it would provide the means for us to meet.”

“You amplified the planet’s distress signal,” Matt said.

Ulaz nodded. “Yes. Voltron has been liberating planets held hostage by Zarkon. It was reasonable to assume you would respond to the signal.”

“If you were planning to wait for us, why did you plant bombs on your own ship?” Keith said. 

“I had no way to be certain the signal had reached you. I waited as long as I could, but the signal had been discovered in our logs and they suspected a traitor on board. It was fortunate I came across one of your explosive devices and became aware of your presence.”

Keith caught Matt’s eye. “Don’t tell Lance about that last part.” 

“I would like to speak with the princess again,” Ulaz said. “Although I understand her hesitancy.”

“She’s still down on the surface,” Keith said. “We’ll relay everything to her.”

“I would like to invite the princess and the paladins of Voltron to our base,” Ulaz said. “The Blade of Marmora is strong, but we need an ally in this fight. One that enables us to stand up to the empire’s weapons.”

“We have no reason to trust you,” Matt said. “You could be leading us into a trap.”

“And by providing you with the coordinates to our base, we are similarly vulnerable.”

“How far is it from here?” Keith said. 

“We will need to use your teludav,” Ulaz said.

“Yeah, that might be a problem.”

Ulaz frowned. “Is it a structural issue? I understand this ship is quite old.”

“Don’t answer him,” Matt whispered. “He’s fishing for information.” 

Keith couldn’t explain why—there was nothing physical, no proof of it—but he trusted that Ulaz wasn’t deceiving him the same way he’d known Shiro was a good guy when they’d met and not some creep. Something in his eyes. Ulaz looked tired. 

“It’s the scaultrite lenses.” Keith ignored the sharp look Matt sent him. “They’re cracked. Best case scenario, we’ve only got a couple jumps left. Sorry, but we can’t waste them on this.”

“If I could provide you with a source for more of them, would you come to the base?”

“We’d have to see the lenses first,” Keith said.

“That would not be a problem.”

“And I have to speak to the rest of the team about it.”

“Of course.”

“In that case, I’ll be back.” Keith took Matt aside, far enough from the holding cell that Ulaz wouldn’t be able to hear them speak. “If he can really get us those lenses, Allura might be willing to negotiate.”

“He could still be lying,” Matt said. 

“I don’t know why, but I don’t think he is.”

Matt looked at him for a while and finally sighed. “You’re the leader. If you want to do this, we’ll do this.”

“I want the team’s approval.”

“Why the change in heart?” 

“I thought about what you said earlier.” 

Matt nodded. “They should be up soon. We’ll talk to them as soon as they’re back.”

Keith wanted to ask Ulaz about his blade, why theirs were so similar, but he was afraid to hear the answer in front of Matt. It would have to wait. 

They headed for the lounge. Hunk came in first and spread out on one of the sofas. He rubbed his hands over his stomach. “Ugh, I ate so much I’m in pain. It’s awesome. Did you try whatever meat that was they were grilling? It was sort of like chicken married up to a short rib. Fell right off the bone.”

“I ate two plates,” Lance said. He and Pidge had collapsed across from Hunk. Lance’s hair and clothes were wet.

“What happened to you?” Matt asked. 

“The phogs threw me in the ocean,” Lance said. 

Pidge raised a finger and spoke without opening her eyes. “I distinctly recall you counting down before you dived in.”

Lance waved a hand in the air. “Details. Anyway, where did you two disappear to so early?” He was looking at Keith and Matt through one eye in a very pink face.

“Are you... _drunk_?” Keith said.

“Possibly,” Hunk said. “Although I’ve never been drunk before so I don’t have anything to compare it to. I’m not entirely sure what was in that juice they gave us but I drank a lot of it.”

“I feel good,” Lance agreed. “Floaty.”

“Everything is spinning,” said Pidge. “It’s kind of disorienting.”

“My sister’s drunk,” Matt said. “My baby sister is drunk. I’m a terrible brother.”

“She’ll be fine,” Keith said. “But I guess we ought to wait until tomorrow to talk with everyone.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Coran, coming in with Allura. She’d let her hair down while on the surface and looked as flushed as Lance, as though she’d been laughing for a while. She sat down next to Pidge and smiled at Coran as he handed out glasses of spring green liquid.

“What is this?” Pidge slurred. 

“Just a little something my Grandad Wimbleton used to swear by. I whipped up a batch before we left. It should eliminate that dizzy feeling in a tick.”

Not five minutes later, after they’d finished gagging and sat up, Keith addressed the team. 

“A little while ago, Matt and I spoke to the Galran we have in containment. His name’s Ulaz. He’s part of an organization that is working to bring down Zarkon from inside the empire. He wants us to take him to their base.” 

“Take the Castle of Lions to a Galra base?” Allura said. “I will do no such thing. Is this why you insisted I go down to the surface, so you could speak with him alone? Or is this about that photograph you think you saw?”

"What photograph?" Hunk said. "What's she talking about?"

"There was a picture of Shiro on that ship," Keith said, holding up a hand to stave off questions. "But that's not why I went behind your back. I'm sorry for not telling you, but we needed to hear him out."

“Keith said he’s got a good feeling about this,” Matt said. “It was his instincts that got this all started. If it hadn’t been for him, we never would’ve found the Blue Lion.”

But Allura was indignant. “A Galran is a Galran. Zarkon betrayed my father after years of swearing loyalty to Voltron, and you’re asking me to trust one of them?”

“He says he can find us scaultrite lenses,” Keith said. 

“So can Coran.” Her tone was poisonous. 

“A lead would be handy,” Coran admitted. “Unless the old pirate swap’s still around.”

“How can you begin to consider this?” Allura said. 

“Princess...” Coran sat down and took her hands in both of his. “I understand your anger. I lost everything you did—my family, my planet, my past. There are days I wish we could wipe them all out, but you know as well as I do that innocent people would die in the process. That is not the Altean way.”

“You would have me forgive him?”

“I would have you remember that your father cherished him and considered him to be a friend before he was altered by the quintessence. His wife was Altean. Your father and mother visited Diabazol with you when you were an infant.”

She swallowed. “What would my father do if he were here?” 

“Your father would still try to save him,” Coran said sadly. “I believe Zarkon is past saving now. But I think, if Alfor were alive, he’d tell you to remember that goodness can exist in anyone. And so can evil. It’s up to you to recognize the difference.”

Allura was quiet. She reached up to dry her eyes and Lance’s arm shot out to offer her a tissue, which she accepted with a tearful smile. She glanced quickly around the room and covered her mouth. “I apologize that you all had to see me in this state. I’m quite embarrassed.”

“Aw, this is nothing,” Lance said. “Not compared to one of Keith’s meltdowns.”

Because it made her laugh, Keith let it pass. 

“Allura,” he said. “I know it doesn’t compare, but the Galra took my best friend. I want to defeat them as much as you do.”

She bent her head and folded her hands together on her lap. “Where is this base located?”

* * *

With the new lenses secured thanks to Ulaz’s connection, an antiques dealer, they chanced opening a wormhole that led to the space outside of the Blade of Marmora’s base. 

The five paladins were dressed for battle, ready to enter their lions if this had been a trap after all. They waited on the bridge in silence for something to happen. Allura’s hands were steady in the air above her twin controls. Ulaz had been brought up from containment and stood to the side of her platform, hands bound in front of him. All of them kept their eyes fixed on the view screen, to the immense blue star twisted into a cylinder by a pair of opposing black holes. 

“Kinda looks like a lamp shade,” Lance said, turning his head sideways. 

“Oh yeah,” Hunk said. “For one of those pendant lights.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Matt said. “Your base is in there?”

“Yes,” Ulaz said. “We had to be certain it would not be accessible to anyone but those who knew its precise location.”

“Are we going to be able to get in there?” Keith said.

“Not with this ship,” Ulaz said. “I would recommend we use one of your lions.”

A message in purple script filled the view screen, and a voice requested they identify themselves. Ulaz spoke. 

“This is Ulaz. I have with me the paladins of Voltron. I request a safe route to the base.”

Nothing happened. The message remained on screen and nearly a full minute passed. 

“I don’t like this,” Allura said. 

“Ulaz, what’s going on?” Keith said. 

“They are likely considering my request,” Ulaz said. “We do not bring outsiders here, but in this case it is in their best interest to agree.”

“What if they don’t?” Lance said. 

“Without a route, we cannot reach the base. I have no way to calculate one without access to our computers.”

Moments later, the same voice filled the bridge again. “Your request has been approved. You may bring two of them with you.”

The script vanished from the screen. 

“Only two of us?” Hunk said. 

“We’re receiving a transmission,” Allura said.

“It will be the route,” Ulaz said. 

Coran projected it for everyone to see, and there was a collective groan. 

“Is it even possible to fly this?” Lance said. “If we stray one inch off of this route, the gravity will suck us into one of those black holes.”

“We do not have much time before the solar flares make this route impassable,” Ulaz said. “Who is going with me?”

“I am,” Keith said. 

“It would be smartest to take the Red Lion,” Pidge said. “It’s got the greatest heat resistance and you’re gonna need it, flying so close to those stars.”

“I guess that means I’m going too.” Matt swallowed. “I—I think you might need to pilot Red, Keith.”

“You’re the one it’s connected to,” Keith said, then noticed the uncertainty in Matt’s eyes. What would Shiro tell him in this situation? “But I’ll be with you. If anything happens, I’ll take over.”

“Once we get there, how long until we can get back out?” Matt said. 

“Looks like two quintants,” Coran said. “So approximately two days, your time.”

“Two days,” Hunk said. “Don’t forget your toothbrush.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Allura said. “With the Red Lion gone along with two of the paladins, if Zarkon should send a ship...”

“There’s no guarantee we could form Voltron anyway,” Keith finished. “It would take a couple days to reach this position. If that happens, Lance and Hunk can provide defense, and Pidge can get around anything.”

“The teludav is working again,” Coran reassured her. “We can always leave, if necessary, and come back for them.”

“We must go now,” Ulaz said to Keith and Matt. “Prepare what you need. While the solar flares are active, we will lose communication with this ship.”

Allura looked distressed. “We won’t know your condition for two days?”

Keith touched her shoulder. “Trust me,” he said and escorted Ulaz off of the bridge.

Matt’s knees were shaking as they boarded the Red Lion, and his hands were shaking as he took hold of his controllers to activate the ship. Keith had only been inside of the other lions a handful of times and was always surprised by the difference in atmosphere. Black had a calm steadiness to it, not unlike Shiro, but the Red Lion did not trust people. Keith felt a certain kinship toward it. 

“Nice and steady,” he said to Matt. “The lion knows the route. Let it guide you.”

Matt simultaneously sighed and laughed. “You sound like him. You really saw a picture of him on that ship?”

"Ulaz thinks it could've been a gladiator match. Watch your speed."

The slow-twisting star was terrifying up close, like a hurricane thousands and thousands the size of those on Earth, twisted from strands of light, so bright that the three of them turned their faces away as they approached. Red compensated by lowering a shield over the view screen so they had to rely on the computer readout for their bearings. It was a relief not to have to look at it anymore. The heat of the star, while not enough to melt the ship’s exterior, still raised the interior temperature. Keith swallowed his disgust as sweat poured down his back inside his suit and kept his focus on the route. Matt’s hands were locked on the controls and he was clenching his jaw, physically reacting to the debris field they’d entered. 

“If you keep jumping like that, you’re going to knock us off course,” Keith said. 

“Sorry.”

“Let up on your hands. Easy.”

Red slowed its own speed and opened the view port when they’d reached the center of the star. They touched down on the asteroid they found there. There was no sign of a base, no sign of any structure at all. And as Ulaz had cautioned, the star’s reinvigorated solar flares had made communication with the castle impossible. Base or not, trap or not, they were stuck here for the next forty-eight hours. 

“What is this?” Keith said. “Where’s the base?”

“It is underground,” Ulaz said. “We will go the rest of the way on foot.”

They weren’t out of the lion’s mouth when two faceless Galrans in black hooded suits rose from a trap door in the asteroid’s surface. Their uniforms were skin-tight and concealed their faces behind ominous masks illuminated at each eye socket. The same eerie purple light emanated from stripes on their cheeks and chests. 

“Ulaz,” one said sharply. “Kolivan is asking for you.”

They took a lift down into the rock where a base had been cut out. 

The organization must have been in existence for some time. The base was as sophisticated as a ship, not the hole-in-the-wall operation Keith had expected. The interior walls had been expertly cut into the asteroid; ceilings soared overhead. There was no feeling of claustrophobia until Keith noticed the lack of windows, but they would be impossible with the surrounding star. 

His boots sounded especially loud as they walked behind Ulaz toward something like a throne room. Several more people dressed in the same black bodysuits and masks had gathered on a platform on the far side of the room. Ulaz approached it and knelt down, bowing his head.

“Kolivan.”

“Ulaz. You are a fool to bring these humans here,” said the large figure in the center. 

“These are paladins of Voltron,” Ulaz said. “They are willing to consider an alliance.”

Kolivan looked first at Matt and then at Keith. With a jerk of his head, he ordered they both be searched. Matt was patted down and released, but someone stronger than Keith grabbed him from behind and restrained his arms.

“Hey, watch it,” Keith said, struggling to free himself. “What the hell is this? I thought we were invited here.”

“He has a weapon,” said the Galran searching him. He brandished Keith’s knife, holding it up for Kolivan to see. The strange marking on the handle reflected the base’s violet lights. 

“You allowed him to come here armed?” Kolivan demanded of Ulaz. 

“I wasn’t walking into a Galra base unarmed,” Keith said. 

Kolivan did not look at him. “Ulaz, did you know about the knife?” 

“I have seen it in his possession.”

“And yet you brought him here regardless, knowing how he must have acquired it?”

“What are you talking about?” Keith said. “I’ve had that knife since I was a kid.”

“This blade cannot have been in your possession,” said the Galran holding it. “Who did you steal it from?”

“I didn’t _steal_ it. It’s mine. My dad gave it to me.”

Kolivan glanced to Matt. “Can you verify his claim?”

“I...” Matt wet his lips. “I did see him with it back on Earth a couple times, yeah.”

“This blade was on Earth?” 

“Yeah,” Keith said. “That’s where we’re from.”

The Blade members exchanged a series of glances, and one of them whispered a word Keith didn’t know: “Krolia?”

“Nonsense,” Kolivan said. 

“ _Krolia_ ,” Keith repeated. “What does that mean?”

“That is inconsequential. You will give it up.”

“The hell I will.”

“That blade is Galran. It cannot be yours.”

“Galran?” Matt said. 

Keith was indignant. “Look, I’m telling you the truth. I’ve had it all my life.”

Kolivan studied him for a moment. “There is only one way to prove it belongs to you. A series of trials. Survive them and you may keep it.”

“And the alternative?” 

“Either you surrender the blade or die.”

The request made his chest hurt. After his father’s death, there had been no one to take Keith in. It had been the two of them for as long as Keith could remember. He had no memory of his mother, not even an impression—not her scent or the color of her hair. She’d left them when he’d been an infant, so his father had been his entire world until the accident had taken him. 

They’d never had a lot, but they’d been comfortable. Money from the house sale had been held in a trust until Keith was an adult. After Shiro had gone missing and Keith had gotten the boot from the Garrison, he’d used the money to get his shack in the desert. It hadn’t been well maintained, had been broken into a couple times, but he’d made do. 

A fellow firefighter had bought his dad’s bike long before Keith had been big enough to ride it. Their families had been friendly, and she’d let Keith come by pretty much when he’d liked. “As long as you’re not riding on any streets,” she’d said. He’d stashed the knife in one of the bike’s compartments, knowing it would be confiscated if his foster parents discovered it, or stolen when he’d lived in the home. Throughout high school, he’d scraped together cash, intent on buying the bike back from her, but Shiro left his own in Keith’s care when he left Earth—had even signed over the title, just in case. Keith wouldn’t give up that bike any more than he’d give up the blade.

“I’ll do your trials,” he said to Kolivan. “If that’s what I have to do to prove myself, then I’ll do it.”

“So be it,” Kolivan said. “Prepare a change of clothing for the human.”

The Galran to his left nodded and swept an arm toward an adjoining corridor. “This way.”

Keith intended to follow him, but Matt stood in his way. “What are you doing?” he whispered. “We came here for negotiations.”

“Does it look like they want to negotiate to you?”

“So you’re gonna...what? Fight to the death? What if you get seriously hurt?”

“I have to do this,” Keith said and tried to step around him, but Matt put out an arm.

“No. No, you _don’t_ have to do this. We can get into Red right now and head back to the castle.”

“The route is inaccessible,” Ulaz said. 

Matt cast Ulaz a long look. “Then we’ll wait until it’s open again.”

“I’m not giving up this knife,” Keith said. 

“I don’t want you to have to give it up either, but if it comes down to your life or a piece of metal, which one are you going to choose?”

“Look. I think this blade might’ve come from my mother. That’s why my dad saved it for me. He said it was special. You have a family waiting for you back on Earth, but the only people I could ever call my family are dead or missing. If there’s something about this blade that I should know about, if my family’s out there, I’m going to find them.”

“Keith, doing this is not going to bring Shiro back.”

“I’m not doing this because of Shiro,” Keith said. “This is for me.”

“Get him in uniform,” Kolivan said.

Keith followed someone to a changing room. The uniform they gave him was like the one the Blade members wore. They provided a mask as well; Keith left it folded in the alcove beside the door.

The Galran leading him told him nothing of what to expect. He motioned to an expansive training deck and Keith understood that he was to cross it, that he’d wait for his opponent there. The room thrummed with a palpable energy. It crawled up his feet and made his legs itch to run. His fingers tightened impatiently around the blade. 

At length, an opponent appeared, dressed as he was—in black, in a mask that hid his face. Keith lowered into fighting stance, raising a fist and the blade. When the opponent ran at him, he didn’t blink. 

He took that first one down easily, held the knife to his throat and pressed down. 

“You are not meant to go through that door,” said the Galran, and he pointed to the far end of the training deck. 

Keith knew it was a challenge, that he must go through that door at any cost. He left the Galran coughing and ran toward it. 

That door led to another training floor, two opponents running at him in sync. A coordinated attack. They moved like two people who had fought together for so long, they were like a single entity existing across two bodies. They anticipated each other’s movements. One landed a fist to his stomach before he took them down. Like the last, they made the same declaration and pointed to the only door in the room.

“You are not meant to go through that door.”

Keith hadn’t been meant for many things. No one had hoped for him to complete high school or to make anything of himself after. But he’d charged those as he charged the door, despite knowing the reverse logic was designed to provoke him, that the test was of his mental strength as well as physical. It drained him in both.

He could scarcely hold onto his blade anymore, but he wasn’t going to forfeit it and he wasn’t going to die. Not here. The only choice was to keep fighting. For seemingly hours, they ran at him in ever growing numbers, faceless opponents that swung at him without regard. “Give up the blade,” they said and they promised the pain would stop, but Keith refused and it kept coming. 

* * *

At some point he must have blacked out. He wasn’t sure what had happened, if he had taken a blow to the head or if his body had finally given out, but when Keith regained consciousness, he was lying on the ground. His face was numb from contact with the floor, his body exhausted.

Out of the dark, from across the room, someone came to him. They were running, but not in the way the attackers had been. The footsteps stopped short of him and someone knelt down at his side. Keith felt a hand—a human hand—touch the side of his face, turning it as though to check for injuries. Another stroked his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. The hand was warm. 

“Matt?” 

Keith could hardly raise his head. His back and chest ached where he’d been struck. He opened his left eye as widely as he could, only a sliver, but it was enough to see that the person was too large to be Matt. Hunk? Had the others come? How long had it been?

He was distantly aware of his torso being lifted off of the floor and held in someone’s arms. Of a solid chest, a slow and steady heartbeat. A familiar scent. 

_Shiro_.

The last of his energy left him and Keith let go, sagging against him. Impossible or not, there was nowhere else in the universe he’d rather be. 

“I’ve got you, Keith.”

“Shiro?” 

The person holding him stroked his hair again. “Yeah.” 

Keith struggled to open his eyes. A hazy image of Shiro looked down at him, exactly as Keith remembered. He hadn’t forgotten a detail, not the darkness of his eyes, or the way his lips curved into a faint smile to hide his concern. It widened the longer they looked at each other, and Keith’s eyes flooded with tears. 

“I knew it. I knew you were alive.”

Shiro held him very close. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“How? How are you here?” 

“I was captured by the Galra while we were on Kerberos. I was separated from the Holts, but the Blades rescued me and I’ve been living here on this base for a while. When I heard a human was attempting the trials, I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like something told me to come watch.” Shiro’s arms tightened around him. “I couldn’t believe it when it was you.”

“Tell them,” Keith begged, fingers weak around the blade’s handle. “You know this knife is mine.”

“You still don’t give up easily, do you.” Shiro’s chest rumbled with laughter against his ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell them it’s yours.”

“Thank you.” 

He rested in Shiro’s arms for a while. 

“It’s okay,” Shiro said. “Everything’s okay, Keith. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

“I didn’t finish.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t think they expected a human to get this far. They just wanted you to give up the knife.”

“I didn’t steal it. I swear.”

“I know.” Shiro’s hand stilled on the back of his head. He looked into Keith’s eyes. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Keith felt his heart clench. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Let’s go home.”

“Home?”

“Back to Earth. The Garrison needs to know about all of this. We can tell them. You’ll go with me, won’t you?”

“I have to get back to my ship.”

“We’ll go there first.”

“I have so much to tell you,” Keith said. 

“There will be plenty of time to catch up on the trip back.”

“Shiro, I can’t just leave.”

“I want to get away from all of this.” Shiro gently kissed his forehead. “I want to spend the time I have left with you.”

“What about Adam?”

“That’s over.”

 _Over_. Keith basked in the sweetness of that word as Shiro rocked him. “I have a place,” he murmured. “Out in the desert.”

Shiro brushed his lips over Keith’s cheek. “Would you let me live with you?”

“It’s only one room.”

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t ever want to be apart from you again.” Shiro threaded their hands together. His palm was hot. Keith closed his eyes as Shiro kissed his mouth. 

“There are shuttles here,” Shiro whispered. “As soon as it’s safe to leave, we’ll take one of them.”

He kissed Keith again, licking at the seam of his lips. Whimpering, Keith opened his mouth and tried to squeeze Shiro’s hand. Shiro’s fingers closed around his more tightly. He brought them to his heart. 

“Please say you’ll come with me. Please, Keith.”

Keith kissed him weakly. “I have people who need me.”

“I need you.”

He had always wanted to hear Shiro say that. Keith opened his eyes to look at him. Shiro was kissing him. His eyes were closed. Keith lay still, catching flashes of color: the tan of Shiro’s uniform jacket, gold stripes on the shoulder, seams crisp as they’d been the morning of the launch two and a half years ago. A clammy feeling slithered over him, prickling his skin. He began to tremble. 

“Shiro...I can’t walk away from this.” 

“Yes, you can. We both can.”

Inside Shiro’s hand, his own went limp. Keith began to cry again, this time from grief. Shiro sweetly kissed his tears away, only this wasn’t Shiro. Keith was certain of it. It was a cruel and perfect likeness, down to each eyelash, the pink of his mouth, but it wasn’t him. 

With the little strength Keith had regained, he put a hand against the thing’s chest and pushed it away, immediately mourning the lack of warmth, the space between them. 

“What are you?” he choked out. “What did you do to him?”

“Keith?” 

He hated how hurt the thing sounded, this thing that wasn’t Shiro. He ached for it to hold him again and clutched himself around the middle. 

“You’re not Shiro.”

“How can you say that?”

“Shiro would never tell me to abandon my team. He’d never tell me to walk away from something that was important to me. Not because of him. I know him better than anyone.”

“That’s right.” The thing spoke in a honeyed voice and reached toward Keith’s face again. “You do know me.”

Keith slapped the hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Come home with me.”

“You’re not Shiro.”

“We can finally be together. I know you want that.”

“ _Shut up_. Shut up. Stop using his voice.” 

“I love you, Keith.”

“I said shut up!” 

The blade in his hand erupted with blue light, blue like the star hiding the base. It overwhelmed the room, nearly blinding him, and created a shield between them. The thing that wasn’t Shiro held up its hands. 

“Keith,” it pleaded and continued to say his name ( _Keith. Keith, please don’t do this. I love you_ ) over and over until the blade’s screaming finally drowned it out.

Shiro flickered out of existence. 

The blade turned cold, dark and with it Keith’s vision. He couldn’t hold onto it any longer. It fell to the deck with a clatter and he fell beside it, defeated.


	5. Chapter 5

Matt was with him when he woke. They were in a narrow room Keith didn’t recognize, wide enough for one bunk and a single chair. An exam room, maybe. Keith tried to sit up but the throbbing in his head forced him onto his back.

“Did they take it?” Keith asked.

Matt shook his head and lay the knife on the bed beside him. “They want to talk to you when you’re ready.”

“I feel like I’ve been run over by a hover bike.”

“Yeah. They were pretty rough on you. But Ulaz says you don’t have any serious injuries. Mostly bruising.” Matt rubbed his nose and glanced away. “Listen, Keith...I need to tell you something and I don’t really know where to start.”

“You think I’m an asshole for doing this.”

“Huh? No. I mean...yes, it’s true I didn’t think you should fight but that’s not what I want to say.” Matt put a fist to his lips and frowned. “That suit you’ve got on, Kolivan said it’s capable of creating a three-dimensional mind scape.”

Keith went cold all over. “Oh, yeah?” 

“I know you saw him.”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“I watched you fight. I heard everything he said to you. If you need to talk about it…”

“No.” Keith rolled onto his side facing the wall. He felt exposed, like he’d been when his belongings had been spilled from a trash bag and searched every time he’d switched houses.

“I didn’t realize,” Matt said. “No wonder you’re hell-bent on finding him.”

“It was one-sided. He didn’t... He had Adam. I was just a kid.”

“I know he was very fond of you. He talked about you a lot during the mission.”

Keith’s chest ached with a pain he couldn’t claw out. He curled into himself. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Matt, but please don’t.”

The chair scraped along the floor. Keith thought Matt would leave him then, but Matt laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently when Keith flinched.

“They might still be able to find him.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s food when you’re ready.”

“I’m hungry now.” 

Keith tried to sit up again but his vision was murky and shifted like water. Or maybe he was crying again. 

“Will you help me?” he said and Matt held out a hand that Keith took. 

* * *

Matt walked him slowly through the base to a dining hall with a single central table running the length of the room. Kolivan was seated at the head, the other members on either side. Kolivan had removed his mask. He had a surprisingly friendly face and a long braid tossed over one shoulder. 

“Welcome,” he said, gesturing to the two open seats on either side of him. His tone was nothing like it had been when they arrived on base. The untrusting quality was gone and in its place he sounded almost fatherly. Matt helped Keith into a chair and sat down across from him.

Kolivan spoke first. “Please forgive my earlier rudeness and that of my subordinates. We should not have accused you. I am Kolivan. This is my associate, Antok. You know Ulaz. And that is Regris.”

“I don’t understand,” Keith said. “I thought I failed.”

“You awakened the blade,” Kolivan said, although it explained nothing. “From the looks of you, I hadn’t thought it possible, but now that I look closer, you do resemble her.”

“Who?”

“One of our members,” Antok said. “Krolia. That blade of yours was hers.”

“What are you saying?” Matt said.

“The only way he could have awakened that blade is if he possesses Galra blood,” Kolivan said. “Krolia disappeared for a period when she was scouting your solar system. It seems likely that you are her son.”

“Where is she?” Keith said.

“She cannot be reached at this time, but I have sent a communication to her. I will see you are put into contact.”

“You’re saying my mom’s alive?” Keith said. Kolivan nodded. 

“Holy shit,” Matt said. “Holy shit, Keith. This is incredible.”

He’d never heard Matt swear before and wondered if he could be asleep, if this was a dream as Shiro had been, but the pain convinced him he was awake. He took a bite of food without tasting it. 

“I did not realize that you were acquainted with our informant,” Kolivan continued.

Keith stopped chewing. “Informant?” 

“The human you so desperately long to see.”

Keith spit his food into a napkin. “Shiro? You know where Shiro is?”

Kolivan nodded slowly. “He works in the largest gladiator arena. Unfortunately, we have been unable to reach our operative stationed there. It is likely her identity was compromised.”

“What about him?”

“He refused extraction when we offered,” said Antok. “With Jumi gone, we can no longer guarantee his safety.”

“Guarantee his…” Keith whipped his head to look at Kolivan. “Then why don’t you get him out?”

“We cannot risk an extraction at this time. His loss, while regrettable, would not justify the potential loss of life.”

“You can’t leave him there!”

Kolivan signaled to Antok, who touched the device on his wrist a few times, then nodded.

“What are you looking at?” Matt asked.

“Brackets for the upcoming match,” Antok said. “The human is listed as a contender.”

“Give me the coordinates to the arena,” Keith said. “I’ll go alone.”

“Your devotion to your friend is admirable but foolish,” Kolivan said.

“Where is the arena?”

“Even if I tell you now, it is futile.”

Keith slammed his fist on the table so hard the plates shook. “Where is the arena? Tell me where it is.”

“You _are_ her son.” Kolivan picked up his utensils. “As I was saying, even if I were to tell you the location, we cannot leave here for some time. It is in your best interest to eat. You are no use to your friend in this state.”

Keith forced himself to take a bite. The food had been prepared from long-term storage ingredients. It tasted packaged. He washed it down with the bitter liquor they’d offered. At least it lessened his pain. 

Kolivan sat back and cleaned his hands on a cloth. He cast it aside.

“What do you know of Galra sports?”

“Not a damn thing,” Keith said, rubbing his eyes.

“I know they fight to the death,” Matt said and Kolivan nodded.

“Combat is revered by my kind. It is a path to fulfillment.” Kolivan refilled their glasses and threw his back. “There are arenas throughout the empire. Your friend was transferred to the largest some time ago. That was the doing of our operatives. We needed a creature strong enough to survive, with the intelligence to be able to comprehend and report anything they overheard.”

“Overheard?” Matt said. 

“This arena is frequented by Zarkon’s innermost circle.”

“So you were using Shiro,” Keith said.

“He volunteered. He continued to, even after he was injured. He understood that what we were doing was more important than his own life.”

Keith clenched his jaw. “And you’d give up yours so easily?”

“Any of us would,” Kolivan said. “To bring an end to Zarkon’s tyranny.”

“I’m not asking for your help. I don’t need anyone to come with me. Just tell me how to get there.”

“An Altean ship would never be allowed to approach.”

“Then lend me a shuttle.”

“In exchange for what?”

“Our allegiance,” Matt said but Kolivan shook his head.

“You would have given that anyway.”

“Our service then,” Keith said. “Ulaz told us you’re low on numbers.”

Kolivan blinked thoughtfully. “For what amount of time?”

“As long as it takes,” Keith said.

At the other end of the table, Ulaz stood up. “I request permission to accompany him.”

Kolivan frowned and filled his glass a third time. “The Blade of Marmora will not officially sanction a rescue mission.” Keith began to protest, but Kolivan cut him off with a raised hand. “However, I will not prevent you leaving this base.”

“What about a ship?” Keith pressed.

“There is the cargo ship we apprehended,” said Antok.

Kolivan met Keith’s eyes. “We cannot offer you assistance if there is trouble. You are on your own.”

For the first time in many months, Keith was filled with unshakable hope. “How long until those solar flares are out of the way?”

* * *

As soon as it was safe to travel from the base to the castle, they returned with Ulaz and Kolivan, who followed behind the Red Lion in the shuttle. Keith broke the news about his heritage and once he’d finished speaking couldn’t ignore the change in Allura’s eyes, how they’d hardened toward him. The way she took a step back.

“Of course you must go,” she said detachedly while Pidge and Matt cried, and Lance even hugged Keith. 

“I’m so glad, man.” 

Hunk smiled. “Yeah. Bring him back safe.”

There wasn’t time to worry about what Allura thought of him. Keith left her behind with Matt and Kolivan, and holding the coordinates he’d secured, boarded the shuttle to the arena planet with Ulaz.

“Any idea how we’re going to find him once we’re there?” he said once they were underway. Ulaz didn’t take his eyes from the view screen even though the ship was on autopilot. 

“It will be easier if it is a match day. Popular fighters will be brought up to the pit.”

“What if it’s not?”

“Arena security is not like a prison’s. The guards are likely to accept bribes. However, if your friend is as popular as they say it may require quite a sum.”

“Kolivan said he’s injured.”

“That is unavoidable.”

Keith swallowed. “How are we getting back off of the planet?”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“If it’s not a problem, why didn’t you get him out of there until now?”

“Understand that it is not from a lack of appreciation for his service or disdain for your species. None of us is more important than the mission.”

“Don’t Galra care about each other?”

“We express it differently. A Galran in your friend’s place would expect to die so as not to risk the others.”

“And yet you’re coming with me,” Keith said.

“I was affected by your declarations.”

Neither of them spoke for a while. 

“How much farther?” Keith asked. 

“You have time to rest. I would advise you do it.”

“We should have wormholed closer.” 

“This carries lower risk. If we were spotted exiting one, it would lead others to your ship. Rest while you can.”

Keith dozed off and on for an hour until a drop in the shuttle speed roused him. Ulaz had switched to manual controls and was guiding the shuttle into a cluster of smaller ships. Larger crafts orbited at a distance. 

“We have come at a good time,” Ulaz said. “It is unlikely the ship will be searched with this much traffic, but if we are selected, you must go to the cargo hold and stay out of sight until I come for you.”

They lined up to enter the arena planet’s atmosphere. The two ships in front of them were singled out by a drone and taken aside to be searched, but Ulaz and Keith were waved forward. As they descended through the cloud cover, the planet’s surface sharpened. Keith look down onto a parched landscape lined with hundreds of spacecraft parked in rows. The ships surrounded a massive building rising out of the dust, as large and tall as a football stadium. 

Ulaz set down a distance from it and shut off the engine.

“I don’t know how long I will be gone,” he said. 

“I’m coming with you.” 

“Your presence increases the likelihood of discovery. If you truly care for your friend, you will stay here and out of sight.”

Keith fought back his agitation. “I’m begging you, please get him out of there.”

Ulaz put on a plain grey cloak and folded a second into a satchel he hung from his shoulder. He handed a round black device to Keith. “If I am captured, I will signal you with this. If that happens, you must leave.”

“I’m not leaving without him.” 

“You must prepare yourself. He may not be as you remember.” Ulaz pulled the hood down so it obscured his eyes. “I may be a while. There are rations in the galley.”

Ulaz slipped out a door in the shuttle’s side. Keith felt the momentary blast of heat from the desert outside before the door sealed again.

He was so anxious, he hardly registered the pain from his earlier fight. He’d never be able to sit still and wait, not with Shiro this close. He was inside that arena and Keith was powerless to do anything. So he gathered water and rations and an emergency blanket. He paced the ship from bow to stern. Finally, he sat in the pilot seat, forming his hands into a blade, and tried to breathe. 

Two and a half years. It had been almost two and a half years since he’d seen him. And soon, soon, Shiro would board this ship and for once, Keith would be the one taking care of him. 

* * *

Shiro dragged himself to the side of the pit. There was so much sand in his mouth, he couldn’t help swallowing it and lack of oxygen had him seeing double. His legs were sluggish, quaking when he tried to stand. A fist to the right side of his face had sliced through his eyebrow, spilling blood into his eye and sealing it closed. He’d never be taken to the box in this state. If he’d been more careful, kept his distance, they might have learned something valuable. But even if he had been taken up, it had been weeks since he’d seen Jumi. He doubted she was still alive and no one else had approached him. 

Shiro reached the door and crawled through it. No handlers stepped forward to help, but the door thudded closed behind him and he felt a sense of relief that the pain was over for today. 

“The human can’t go up in this state,” someone said. “Get him to the infirmary.”

“Right away,” said an unfamiliar voice, more gruffly than the first, and someone jabbed a weapon into Shiro’s back. “Get up.”

“Please give me a minute.”

“I said get up.” 

The Galran pressed the weapon into him harder. Shiro’s body felt twice its normal weight, but he managed to bend his arm and lift his chest off the ground. Somehow, he got up and stumbled ahead of the handler, who was dressed in a heavy gray robe, toward the arena hospital. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” Shiro said but got no reply.

His vision began to swim, and because he was only looking out of one eye, he had trouble gauging how far away the wall was from his hands. Twice he fell. The handler didn’t assist, prodding him in the legs both times. Shiro tensed when he reached the turn for the hospital, knowing he would be put into the dark for days without Jumi to intervene, but the handler blocked the way.

“Keep going straight.”

“I’m injured. I need medical treatment.” 

“You must do as I say if you want to escape,” the handler whispered. “It is just a bit farther. Keep looking forward. These halls are monitored.”

“Who are you?” Shiro said. 

“I am Ulaz of the Blade of Marmora. Turn here.”

“You’re with the Blades? Where’s Jumi?” 

“We fear the worst.”

“We shouldn’t go this way. This goes up to the viewing floor.”

“A crowd means fewer eyes on us.”

The din of the crowd’s roar became louder as they neared the connecting door. Ulaz incapacitated the sentry guarding it. He took a second cloak from a bag on his hip and quickly wrapped it around Shiro, then pressed his hand against the door panel. It glowed and the door slid open.

“Lean on me,” he said. “Act as though you’re intoxicated.”

“Wish I were drunk.” Shiro did as Ulaz instructed, gratefully allowing him to carry his weight.

Ulaz maneuvered them through the open concourse, through throngs of spectators, toward the exit. Shiro could see the tips of shoes belonging to people in the crowd, but he kept his chin low to his chest and concentrated on controlling his own movements. It had been steadily growing harder to walk. Ulaz brought Shiro’s arm behind his neck and held tightly to his wrist.

“We are about to go through a door. I’m going to act as though you’ve said something humorous.”

“What for?”

“It will make people uncomfortable.” 

Ulaz laughed and staggered slightly. For a moment Shiro wondered if they would both fall, if their identities would be revealed, but Ulaz quickly righted himself and Shiro felt the planet’s unforgiving heat, the dizzying clay-like scent of the soil.

“How much farther?” Shiro asked. 

“The ship is at a short distance. Can you make it?”

“Yes.” Shiro coughed. He could taste the arena dirt in his mouth. “I’m surprised we walked out of there.”

“They are not concerned with prisoners escaping. You would have no way off of the planet and no way to survive in the desert.” 

The heat was overwhelming. Shiro’s legs had begun to cramp and he was already woozy from the loss of blood. It was lucky a Galran was escorting him; Ulaz wasn’t bothered by Shiro’s weight. They shuffled down a row of idling spacecraft, stopping in front of a banged-up cargo ship, like the kind the Garrison used for training. He’d met Adam in a ship like that. 

Shiro heard the click and hiss of a hatch opening. The heat was beginning to go to his head; it was impossible to keep his eyes open any longer. The ground became harder underfoot and inclined. Was he walking into the ship? Hands that weren’t Ulaz’s took hold of him and Shiro pitched forward into someone like a child that had lost his footing. 

Someone whispered his name. “Shiro.”

“He is weak,” Ulaz said. “Help me carry him.”

That person held Shiro under the arms and dragged him to the back of the ship, laying him on the floor. Every time he blinked, Shiro saw a momentary sliver of the same purple light that had been everywhere on the ship that had stolen them from Kerberos. The ship was Galra. He could tell from the design, from the long sloping sides and alcoves cut out for equipment. It occurred to him that he might have been kidnapped just now, that the person who’d claimed to be a part of the Blades could have been lying about who he was. But Shiro wasn’t hit or put into restraints, and the person who had caught him was kneeling beside him on the floor. They touched his face, his hands, his hair. The hands touching him were incredibly gentle. Familiar. 

They were Keith’s hands. 

“I’ve got you, Shiro. You’re going to be okay.”

The words had been spoken in a voice he hadn’t heard in years, one he thought he’d never hear again. He must be dreaming. Had he lost consciousness? Was he still in the pit? It wasn’t possible that Keith was here, and yet Shiro was certain he was alive, that he was lying on the floor of a ship just this side of conscious, that his left eye was sealed with blood, that _Keith_ was the person kneeling beside him. It didn’t matter whether he was awake or not, whether he would die or live to find it had been a dream. It was his present reality and he was grateful for it. Unless... 

“Am I dead?” Shiro felt tears sting his eyes. Did that mean Keith was dead, too? 

But Keith laughed and brushed the hair back from Shiro’s face. “Not yet. You’re pretty beat up, though.”

“What are you doing here? How did you...”

“We’ve got some friends in common. I’ll tell you about it later. Do you want something for the pain?”

“If you have it.”

“Open your mouth.” Keith pressed two pain tablets to Shiro’s tongue and held the canteen to his lips. “Drink.” He supported his neck and head while Shiro took two coveted sips. Water dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Keith dried it with his thumb.

“I haven’t had water that clean in a while,” Shiro said. “Will you take this chest plate off of me?”

Keith quickly untied the fastenings and laid it aside. Shiro clutched his stomach and laid his head on Keith’s knee. 

“I should’ve brought a pillow,” Keith said. 

“Your lap is fine.”

“Guess it’s better than the floor.” Keith pulled the loose strands back from Shiro’s face. “Your hair got long.” 

“It’s been a while since I had it cut.” 

“I like it.”

“Yeah?” Shiro’s mouth ticked. “Maybe I’ll...then…”

He couldn’t keep talking. He wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. His eyes felt tired. Underneath his head, Keith’s thigh was firm and warm and real. 

“You get some sleep,” Keith said. 

_Don’t leave me_ , Shiro wanted to say. 

Something soft brushed his forehead. Keith’s lips. And at the helm, Ulaz spoke in Galra and Shiro stopped thinking.

* * *

Shiro slept during the return flight to the castle. Keith refused to leave his side, choosing to stay with him on the ground even as Ulaz began their approach. He’d kept quiet during the flight, allowing Keith peace in his thoughts. 

Keith hadn’t thought to bring anything to clean the blood from Shiro’s face, so he did what he could with his sleeve. Shiro looked much older. The skin on his forehead was dry, his lips cracked. Something he’d fought had recently left a scar across his left cheek and the bridge of his nose. His hair, always neatly cut, hung in a long braid past his shoulders, and while it was as black as Keith remembered, white strands had begun to grow in at the front. Shiro’s face wasn’t as full as Keith remembered it either. His whole body was wiry muscle, not bulky like he’d once been. 

But what worried Keith wasn’t Shiro’s weight—Hunk would get the pounds back on him in no time—or the scars. It wasn’t the blood or the shock of white hair. Shiro’s right arm had been replaced by some Galra contraption, a sophisticated prosthetic that twitched whenever Shiro moaned in his sleep. 

“Do you think they’re tracking us with this thing?” Keith asked Ulaz, who was seated at the controls. It was the first time he’d spoken since takeoff. 

“No. I ran a scan when we brought him on board. It doesn’t appear to be a transmitter of any sort.” Ulaz paused. “You are a tactile species. Does it help his healing?”

Keith had been stroking Shiro’s hair for so long, it lay smooth. It soothed him to do it, so he continued. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You are lucky he is alive. He must be a tremendous fighter.”

“You said you worked in medicine. He’s got a degenerative disease. Can you tell if he’s...”

“He is exhausted and has lost a good deal of blood. I don’t have the equipment to check for internal injuries, but once we are back on board your ship, I will give him a more thorough examination.”

“Thanks.” Keith touched the dried blood on Shiro’s eye. The others shouldn’t see him like this. Shiro wasn’t proud, but Keith didn’t want anyone to see him as pitiful. He placed a call to Matt.

“Do you have him?” Matt said in lieu of a greeting. He sounded like he’d been running. 

“Yeah, he’s with me. We’re on our way back.”

Matt let out a breath. “Oh, thank god. I’ve been so worried. I’ll let the others know.”

“Can you do me a favor? Bring a med kit to the hangar bay and then make sure everyone stays in the rec room until I get him situated.”

Keith heard Matt swallow. 

“How bad is he?” Matt said. 

“He looks pretty bad. He’s been asleep since we took off. I don’t want anyone asking him questions or tiring him out. You know Shiro. He’ll act like everything’s fine.”

“I’ll make sure no one bothers him. How far out are you?”

“We’re in approach.”

“Are _you_ okay?” Matt said. 

“I will be once I get him on board.”

“After I drop off the med kit, I’ll leave some clothes in the empty room next to yours. What about food?”

Keith couldn’t think straight. “Maybe a rations bar. And I should get some more water into him.”

“All right. I’ll get everyone together and message you when it’s all clear.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

Keith returned his hand to Shiro’s hair. 

“The Altean ship is within visual range,” Ulaz said. “I would advise you to use safety restraints as we approach.”

“I’m fine down here.”

“You possess Krolia’s stubbornness.” Ulaz sounded amused. “I hope I am still alive when you meet.”

“Did I sign a death wish when I said I’d work for you?”

“None of us want to die. It is that we are willing to.” Ulaz touched his control panel and spoke to Allura, requesting permission to dock. 

Keith unconsciously held Shiro closer throughout the landing and only realized when his lips grazed Shiro’s hair. He was bent over him, so close that Keith could hear his faint breathing. Shiro smelled of blood and sweat, but whatever else the Galra had done to him in that place, they’d kept him relatively clean. No mites or sores. Keith inhaled the long-forgotten fragrance of his skin. 

After they’d landed, Ulaz powered down the shuttle and came to him. 

“Matt says we’re all clear,” Keith said. 

“I will retrieve the medical kit,” Ulaz said and returned with it shortly, kneeling on the floor beside Shiro. He took out a handheld device. “We do not have anything this sophisticated.” 

He switched it on and held it, buzzing, over Shiro’s abdomen. “As I suspected, he has mild internal injuries. I do not see any major organ damage, but I would recommend he be put into a replenisher if you have one on board. Would you like me to wrap his injuries?”

“I’ll do it. Thanks. Why don’t you use one of the guest quarters, get some sleep before you head back to the base.”

“It is greatly appreciated. Do you need help carrying him?”

Keith was about to accept when Shiro moaned a little and turned his face into Keith’s stomach. 

“Hey. We’re here,” Keith said, touching Shiro’s cheek to wake him. 

“Here?” Shiro said. He opened his mouth a few times and tried to wet his lips. Keith held the water to them. 

“On my ship.” He helped Shiro raise his head so he could drink. “You’ve been asleep for a while. Can you walk?”

“I—I think so.”

Ulaz put out a hand to help him up. Shiro gripped it tightly, but struggled to his feet even with Keith holding up part of his weight. 

“Put your arm around me,” Keith said. He slung his free arm behind Shiro’s back to steady him. With Ulaz’s help, they walked down the exit ramp. As Matt had promised, the pod bay was empty. Keith left Ulaz with the cargo ship and started across it. 

“Where’s your crew?” Shiro asked haltingly. 

“I figured you wouldn’t want an audience. You’ll meet them later.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ve got a room ready for you, but Ulaz thinks you’d be better off in a healing pod for a while.”

Shiro shook his head. “No. I need a shower and sleep.”

“You’re injured. You’ve lost blood.”

“You’re taller,” Shiro said. Keith snorted at the attempted misdirection.

“I’m not seventeen anymore.” 

“I can’t believe...” Shiro was dragging his right leg. “Can’t believe you found me.”

“I never stopped looking.”

“I’m afraid...I’ll wake up and find...this was all a dream.”

“You really think you’d dream about me rescuing you?”

“Thinking of you...kept me going...a lot of days.”

Keith’s chest felt tight. He cleared his throat. “This ship’s got advanced medical technology. You’ll be like new in no time.”

“I said no. Please, Keith.”

He was weak to his own name, to the fear in Shiro’s voice. He didn’t understand why Shiro had refused, but Keith did as he asked and took him toward the shower room instead.

In his state, there was no way Shiro would be able to clean himself. Keith had him sit on a bench and gathered a cloth and soap. Shiro’s clothes were bloodstained and hung in tatters where something had clawed it. 

“Is it okay if I cut these off of you?” Keith asked. 

Shiro nodded. Keith took out his knife and carefully cut around the places where the blood had dried and stuck the fabric to Shiro’s skin. Piece by piece he removed the shirt, revealing a patchwork of whitish pink scars across Shiro’s back and arms. There was fresh scarring on his left arm right above the prosthesis; others varied in degrees of color and size, faded to the point they would be imperceptible in poor light—scars that were months or maybe years old. Rage swelled up in Keith, but this wasn’t the time to be angry. He had to keep it together for Shiro’s sake. 

He cut away the rest of the shirt and pants, leaving Shiro naked.

“Will you be okay if I use soap?” Keith asked.

“I can bear it.”

Keith washed Shiro’s hair first, loosening the braids that hung over his shoulder and using his fingers to comb through the strands. Shiro’s hair fell past his shoulders in waves where it had been bound. The silver streaks darkened as Keith saturated them with water. He resented every inch of it, grown in the time they were apart.

He carefully washed the dirt and blood from Shiro’s body. Shiro hissed when he cleaned the claw marks on his forearm, but his face relaxed immediately afterwards and he wilted under the spray. Keith knelt down to wash his legs, but Shiro caught his wrist.

“I can do it.”

“You can barely sit up. Close your eyes if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Shiro sighed but did as Keith said and was quiet while Keith washed his feet and legs, although he startled when Keith touched his inner thigh.

“Hey, do you remember Lance?” Keith said to distract him. “He was in my class?”

“Vaguely. Why?”

“He’s here. Matt Holt, too.”

“Matt’s with you?”

“He and his dad crash-landed about ten months ago. Commander Holt stayed on Earth.” Keith quickly washed between Shiro’s legs and kept his hand moving, determined not to react even when Shiro jumped slightly against his palm. “All they knew about you was that you’d been separated. Not long after, we found ourselves out here.”

Shiro squinted at him. “How?”

“You ever hear of Voltron?”

“A little. It’s a weapon, right?”

“Yeah. It’s...kind of a giant robot made up of five pieces. We found one of them on Earth. It brought us here.”

“We?”

“Yeah. I’m one of the paladins.”

Keith grabbed the spigot and rinsed the soap away, then shut it off and began to towel Shiro dry. Shiro leaned unexpectedly forward, resting his weight against Keith. He made no sound, but Keith felt the heat from his tears and the sob he was trying to hold back. Keith bore his weight. He didn’t care that the shower floor would bruise his knees, or that his back would be stiff by morning from holding this position for so long. He put his arms around Shiro and held him.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said after a while. Keith rocked back on his heels and met Shiro’s eyes. They were red, the whites bloodshot. Keith resisted the urge to dry them.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“For falling apart on you.”

“You’ve seen me fall apart plenty of times.”

Shiro said nothing. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm and then held it out to Keith in a silent request to be helped up. Keith got him on his feet and wrapped the towel around Shiro’s waist. 

“Your room’s not far,” Keith said. “I should have had your clothes brought here.”

“It’s fine.”

The corridor was empty. Keith could hear the _thump, thump_ of music from whatever video game Lance was playing. The doors were shut. Keith opened the room Matt had prepared for Shiro. It was like the others, with a rounded alcove for the bed and smooth metal walls—a mirror of his.

“You’re one down from me, so if you need anything...”

“Just sleep.”

Keith helped him sit on the bed and gave him a bottle of water. He went through the stack of clothes Matt had left. He pulled out a pair of shorts and lifted Shiro’s feet off of the ground one by one. Shiro raised off of the bed a few inches, enough for Keith to slide them over his hips. It was embarrassing how relieved Keith felt because of a piece of clothing.

He surveyed Shiro’s injuries again, the tremors in his arms and legs. 

“You’d really be better off using one of the healing pods. Your muscles...”

But Shiro vigorously shook his head. 

“Why not?”

“I can’t be shut in one of those right now.”

“Even if I stay with you? I won’t leave you. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“Please not tonight.” 

It was probably best not to upset him. At least he was safe. “Okay,” Keith said fondly. “Will you eat something?” 

Shiro shook his head. 

“At least let me wrap your arm and then you can sleep.”

There were four prominent claw marks running at an angle across Shiro’s forearm. The fifth was a lighter scratch across his bicep. None of them looked deep enough to need stitches; they’d cleaned up well in the shower and weren’t bleeding anymore. Keith treated and wrapped them with bandages. 

Shiro’s eyes were closed when Keith finished, and from the roundedness of his shoulders and the way his head hung toward his chest, Keith knew he was asleep. He shook him to encourage Shiro to lie down and let Keith cover him with a blanket. He was warm from the shower, but the heat would soon dissipate. Keith positioned him facing outward so that Shiro didn’t put weight on his injured arm. His hair was still wet. Keith hadn’t thought to dry it. 

Shiro would likely sleep for the better part of a day, maybe two, and while Keith’s room was next door, the distance a wall would create was unbearably vast. Keith settled on the floor beside the bed and rested his forehead against his knees.

This wasn’t a dream. Tomorrow, they’d wake up in this room. Shiro would be here with him on the ship, alive, and Keith would never spend another day in the uncertainty that had eclipsed the past two years.


	6. Chapter 6

Shiro slept for almost three days straight. Keith spent the first night with him, but his back and neck were stiff from sleeping upright on the floor, and he had duties on the ship. He returned to his own room the next night but checked on Shiro regularly, waking him every few hours for water and pain medication. Shiro continued to refuse the healing pods, so Keith had brought a handheld unit to Shiro’s room and stimulated the muscles in his arms and legs. Shiro slept peacefully. 

Things had been awkward with Allura ever since he’d come back. She had come to say that she was pleased by Shiro’s return and to offer Keith any of the ship’s resources in order to ensure his full recovery, but the conversation had sounded like the speeches she gave after they liberated a planet. Polite but distant. She’d come as an ambassador, not a friend. 

At least Matt didn’t treat him any differently. He’d offered to help nurse Shiro—he’d known him nearly as long as Keith had—but it felt wrong to let anyone else care for him. Matt didn’t argue beyond reminding Keith he needed food and rest himself. 

“Take a couple days for yourself. I’ll handle anything that comes up.”

When he changed Shiro’s bandages the fourth morning, Keith was relieved the skin had begun to heal. He applied salve to the cuts on Shiro’s face, to the old scar across the bridge of his nose, to the ones on his shoulders and back and chest. Keith cared for every part of him, and covered him, and waited. 

* * *

He wasn’t there when Shiro opened his eyes. He’d gone for a shower, drifting off under the hot spray, and went back to his room to change. Through the wall, he heard Shiro call out for him and sprinted next door with only his pants on.

“Shiro, it’s Keith. I’m coming in.” 

He slapped his hand on the panel to open the door and threw on the light. Shiro was sitting up in bed, blinking at the sudden brightness. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm. 

“How long have I been asleep?” 

“A few days.”

Shiro dropped his face into his hands. “I thought I might have been dreaming again. Did I say anything strange?”

“You didn’t say much of anything.” Keith sat on the bed next to his feet. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. My memory’s pretty foggy. I remember being on a ship with you and in the shower, I think, but the rest of it...”

Keith extended a hand with the purpose of touching Shiro’s face as he’d done freely the past few days, but he stopped before he made contact with Shiro’s skin. “Turn your face?” He pretended to examine the scarring he’d already treated. “You look a lot better. Everything’s starting to heal. Are you up for using a pod today?”

“A healing pod? Yes, if you have them.”

“You were completely opposed to the idea when you got here.”

“I’m sorry. I was disoriented. They used to put us into these old regenerators for a few days. You’d wake up in the dark and maybe they’d hear you calling.”

“Ours are transparent,” Keith said quickly, chilled. “They open automatically.”

“Is there a mess hall?”

“I can bring you something. Or we’ve got a dining room if you’re up for it.”

“What kind of ship is this?” Shiro said.

“It’s probably better if you see it for yourself. Do you want another shower?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m on leave. I’m all yours.” Keith cringed at the way it sounded. “As far as time goes.”

“I appreciate that.” Shiro smiled. “I’m sorry. It looks like I interrupted you while you were getting changed.”

“Oh.” Keith remembered that he was naked from the waist up. He blushed. “I’ll finish getting dressed and come back for you in a minute.”

“I’ll come with you. Help me up?”

Keith held his hand as Shiro clumsily got out of bed, and loaned his bare shoulder for Shiro to hold as they walked. Pidge was coming out of her room as they stepped into the corridor. She made a startled noise at Shiro’s presence, then blurted “Good afternoon!” and hurried down the hall in the opposite direction. 

“Who was that?” Shiro asked.

“Matt Holt’s sister.” Keith opened his own room and left Shiro leaning against the wall inside the door. 

“Katie? Katie’s here?”

“Yeah, but she goes by Pidge.” 

“Pidge. I’ll try to remember that.”

Keith pulled on the first clean shirt he found and picked up the ID tags from where he’d pooled them on the bed. He put them on and tucked them under his shirt. 

“She’ll probably tell the others you’re up,” Keith said. “They’re all going to want to see you. If you’re not up for that...”

“I’d like to greet them.”

“Then after we clean up, we’ll meet everyone on the bridge. I have a shirt in here that should fit you.” He took out the shirt he’d worn the day they left Earth, one he’d worn so often the collar was permanently stretched. He tossed it to Shiro.

“You still have this?” Shiro laughed. “I remember when you stole it from me.”

“None of my pants will fit you. Are you okay with those shorts until we get you something else?”

“Anything’s fine.” Shiro explored the few items Keith had stuck to the walls. “Hey, you’ve got a picture of us! I had this one too.” He pointed to a piece of paper taped up inside the alcove. “Eight hundred...is that how long it’s been since you left Earth?”

“Oh, no, that’s...” Keith couldn’t make up a lie fast enough. He looked at the paper and then at Shiro and smiled. “Actually, I don’t need that anymore.”

* * *

Shiro felt strong enough to go into the shower room alone. Keith looked at himself in the mirror while he waited, rubbing at the purple shadows beneath his eyes. Maybe they’d go away with coffee. He splashed his face with cold water and dried it on a sleeve. 

“Keith?” Shiro called. 

“Yeah?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, I could use your help after all.”

Shiro was trying to wash his hair with one hand while keeping his left arm away from the water. “I don’t know why I thought I could do this myself,” he laughed.

“I don’t mind.” Keith rolled up his sleeves but considered his boots, the fresh clothes he had on. “I’ll just...give me a minute.” 

He left his clothes with Shiro’s in the changing area and went back in. This wasn’t weird. He and Matt had showered in here after almost every mission. 

The heat of the water had brought out the color in Shiro’s scars. More of them were visible criss-crossing his back. His legs were damaged too, thrashed across the backs of his thighs, and something had taken a chunk out of his right calf. The skin there was sunken, puckered where it had healed. Keith had noticed it in the room but it was gruesome in full light. He swallowed his nausea and smoothed the soap across Shiro’s back. 

“Is this what you’re using on your hair? Wouldn’t you rather have shampoo?”

“I don’t care as long as it’s clean. I’m going to cut it off anyway.”

“You should still take care of it.”

“Jumi used to braid it.”

“Jumi?”

“She was my handler,” Shiro said and Keith felt sick again. He worked the soap into Shiro’s hair with vigor, into the ends where it was thinnest, and tried to sound neutral. 

“Yeah?”

“She went missing. Ulaz said she’s probably...” Shiro trailed off. 

“Tilt your head back.”

“Your hands feel good.”

Keith set down the bar of soap before he dropped it. He worked the lather into Shiro’s scalp and rinsed it away with shaking hands, reciting the basic principles of flight to calm himself. If Shiro turned around now, he’d get an eyeful. Keith set his teeth and took a breath. 

“I think you’re all set,” he said. 

“Sorry to make you get wet again.”

“I told you, it’s not a big deal. Are you okay to finish? I’ll get you a towel.” 

“Thanks.”

Keith hurried out and dressed for the second time that day. He hoped his discomfort was over, but Shiro didn’t cover himself when he came out of the shower room and rubbed the towel over his hair and face before fixing it around his waist. 

“I got the bandages wet after all.” Shiro picked at them sheepishly. Water had plastered his hair to his skin. It dripped from the uneven ends to the floor. 

“I’ll put on new ones,” Keith said. 

Shiro sat patiently while he did. “I promise not to get these wet,” he said. 

“We can probably take them off in a day or two. Let your skin breathe.”

“It’s ugly, isn’t it?”

“There’s nothing ugly about you.” Keith snipped the excess bandage and tucked the edges under. “You’re all set. Are you still up to seeing people or would you rather go back to your room?”

Shiro shook his head. “The longer I stay in there, the harder it’ll be to come out again.” He inhaled and sat up. “Thank you for being patient with me.”

“Wait ‘til you see the kitchen in this place,” Keith said, changing the subject. “We’ve got a tube that shoots food goo.”

“Sounds appetizing.”

Shiro dressed and walked alongside him in the corridor, occasionally reaching for Keith’s shoulder to steady himself, but he seemed determined to walk under his own steam. As Keith suspected, everyone but Matt had assembled on the bridge and descended on them as soon as they entered. 

Keith spoke first. 

“Everyone, this is Shiro.”

Shiro smiled the way he had the first time Keith saw him address a classroom. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. Lance, right?” Shiro extended a hand. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“And this is Princess Allura of Altea,” Keith said.

“We are relieved that you’re safe,” Allura said. “Keith has told us so much about you.” She smiled at him a little too broadly for Keith’s comfort. Lance looked similarly annoyed. 

“Where’s Matt?” Shiro asked. The sound of running feet answered and Matt raced onto the bridge.

“I was in the lab,” he said. He moved like he would shake Shiro’s hand, but Shiro pulled him into a hug.

“I’m so glad that you and your father made it back to Earth safely.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner,” Matt said. 

Shiro let go of him. “This ship...it’s incredible.”

Pidge brightened. “We can show you around!” 

“I think we’re going to eat first,” Keith said.

“In that case, leave it to me,” Hunk said. 

“We’re going to grab something simple.” 

“I know you wouldn’t deny me the pleasure of cooking for a guest,” Hunk said. “Shiro, is there anything you like? Don’t like? Any allergies?” 

Shiro smiled. “I’m sure whatever you make will be fine.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Lance muttered.

“Trust me. Nothing can be as bad as what I had to eat in prison.”

Shiro had said it off handedly, but the effect on the bridge was sobering. Pidge looked down. Hunk and Lance glanced awkwardly at one another. 

Keith touched Shiro’s arm. “The kitchen’s this way.”

“Or, here’s an idea,” Hunk said. “Why don’t you show Shiro around for a bit while I whip up a few things, and I’ll call you once they’re done?”

“You don’t want anyone messing around in your kitchen,” Keith said.

“Like you can cook anyway!” said Lance. 

“Hey, I’m not the one who almost blew up the oven.” 

“I don’t mind waiting,” Shiro said. “Katie—sorry, Pidge, right? I can’t believe how mature you’ve become. Why don’t you start the tour.”

Lance frowned. “Hey, how come Keith and Pidge get to take Shiro around?”

“You can come with us,” Keith said flatly. “Allura, what about you?”

“I’ll leave you to catch up. I need to speak with Coran about some upgrades to the particle barrier.”

Keith wondered if she was still avoiding him or being courteous. 

The two Holts cheerfully stepped into the role of tour guides, sweeping Shiro off of the bridge. Shiro had been friendly with the Holt family before the Kerberos Mission, so it made sense he’d be glad to see them again. Keith trailed behind like an afterthought. They showed Shiro all over the ship, from the medical wing to the laboratories and engine room, and ended up in the entrance to the hangars.

“We can access our lions from here,” Pidge was saying, “but there’s also a fast-access tube from the bridge that takes us straight to them in an emergency.” 

“Keith told me you pilot the Red Lion, Matt,” Shiro said. “And Pidge, yours is... green?”

“That’s right. And together we form...”

She and her brother linked hands.

“The arms of Voltron!” 

They said it in practiced synchronicity. Keith groaned behind his hand. 

“Well, _sometimes_ ,” Pidge qualified. 

“The Red Lion is temperamental,” Matt said. “but we get along.” 

“And the Green Lion is really intelligent,” said Pidge.

Shiro laughed. “Then it suits you.” 

Pidge blushed at the praise. Keith rolled his eyes. 

“Do you want to see it?” Pidge offered. Shiro’s eyes widened with interest but he swayed on his feet. 

“Hunk should have the food ready any time now,” Keith said, putting a hand on Shiro’s back. “You can show him the rest later.”

“I’ll go help Hunk,” Pidge said, understanding. “See you guys in a few.”

“I’m...going to go see if Allura needs anything,” Matt said and left them alone.

Keith didn’t speak until they were gone. Shiro was looking at him. “So, what about your lion?” Shiro said. 

“What about it?”

“I’d like to see it, if that’s okay? I want to know what you’ve been up to all this time.”

Keith’s face went suddenly hot. He flipped up his jacket collar to hide the blush and turned away. Shiro followed him to the Black Lion’s hangar. The lion’s eyes glowed as they approached and seemed to fix on Shiro. Keith motioned toward him. 

“Black, this is Shiro. He’s a friend from Earth. Shiro, this is my...lion.”

“It’s huge.”

“Yeah, it’s bigger than the others.”

“You’re the team leader, aren’t you.” Shiro sounded so proud, it made Keith’s heart skip. “Keith, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to sound like I’m bragging.”

“How do you power it?”

“Altean alchemy. They’ve got some type of power core. I don’t pretend to understand any of it.”

“Can we go inside?”

“Sure. Black, open up. We’re coming in.” The lion opened its mouth and Keith grinned at Shiro’s wondrous expression. He maintained it as they went inside, looking all around them but careful not to touch anything. 

“You can really fly this?” Shiro asked.

“I had a pretty good instructor.”

Shiro smiled. “I didn’t have to do much. Once you learned to take your time, you didn’t need me anymore. I bet you ended up mentoring someone yourself.”

“Uh...not exactly.” Keith scratched his neck. “I got kicked out.”

Shiro blinked several times. “You...why?”

“Assault on an officer.”

“What?”

There was no point in hiding it. Shiro would find out eventually from Matt or Lance. Keith might as well be the one to tell him. 

“I was pretty messed up when you went missing. I’m not proud of it, but it’s not like I can take it back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Keith said. “Don’t act like you’re responsible for that. It was my fault, my actions that got me in trouble.”

“I’m still sorry,” Shiro said. “To know you were that upset.”

Keith’s world had ended that day, but he didn’t tell Shiro that. He gestured toward the view screen. “So this is it.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it. You said you found the first one on Earth?”

“The Blue Lion, yeah. Out in the desert, not too far from where I was living.”

“How did you know where to look?”

Keith shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s like I had a feeling that’s where I was supposed to be. Wasn’t too long after that, the Holts crashed in that Galra ship and...anyway, we found the lion.”

“I’m really proud of you.” Shiro smiled the way he had, sometimes, when they were alone. Keith’s face went hot again. “I say that not only as your former instructor but also as your friend. The fact that you took all of this on shows a great deal of maturity on your part.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice.”

“You could have deserted. You could have given up looking for me.”

“No. No I couldn’t—” Keith’s throat closed and he worried that he might cry. 

“That’s why I’m proud of you.” Shiro had put a hand on his shoulder and Keith swayed under the weight. “Are you feeling all right?” 

“I’m fine.” Keith put a few feet of space between them. “Shiro, I need to come clean about something.”

“What is it?”

Keith took his blade from its scabbard and held it flat against his palm. “Do you remember this?”

“Of course. That’s the knife your dad gave you.”

“I never knew much about it—where he got it or where it came from. All he’d say was that someone had left it for me.”

Shiro regarded it with polite interest. “Have you had any luck figuring out what the symbol means?”

“Yeah. It’s Galra.”

“Galra?” Shiro frowned. “How could you have had a Galra weapon back on Earth? I thought they just discovered our solar system.”

Keith shook his head. “I don’t know all the details, but the Blades think it has to do with my mom.”

“Your mother?”

“This knife used to belong to one of their members. They think she was on Earth around the time I was born. Shiro, what I’m trying to say is I’m part Galra. Looks like it’s a big part.” He kept his focus on the blade, on the edge where it caught the light. 

“Are you okay?” Shiro said kindly. 

Keith shrugged. “It explains a lot. Where my mom went. Why my dad never talked about her. Allura doesn’t trust me anymore because of what the Galra did to her planet. They kept you prisoner.” He dared to look up at Shiro. “Do you hate me now, too?”

“Keith.” Shiro’s expression grew sad and he reached out his arms, pulling Keith to him. Keith rested his cheek on Shiro’s shirt and closed his eyes. “You can’t help where you come from. I’ve known you for a long time. I could never hate you.”

“Even if I start to look like them?”

“Even then. You’d look pretty cute purple.” He could hear the grin in Shiro’s voice.

“Shut up.” Keith shoved away from him and swiped at his eyes. “I think Hunk forgot about us.”

“Why don’t we head down. Or...is it up? I’m turned around.” Shiro started to exit the ship but stumbled over a rivet in the floor. He caught himself on the wall and the lion made a low noise like a growl. 

“Hey, easy,” Keith said to it. 

“Sorry,” Shiro said and quickly stood, removing his hand from the wall. “I don’t think it likes me.”

“They’re kind of particular. Red’s almost made Matt cry a couple times.”

“How is he as a pilot?”

“Not as bad as Hunk.” 

They walked down the ramp out of the lion and to the lift. Keith pressed the button for the bridge. 

“Is it similar to what you trained on?” Shiro asked. 

“Sort of. The lions do a lot of the work. You can feel them in your head telling you to do stuff. When you think about what the Alteans could have achieved if the Galra hadn’t wiped them out, it’s almost unbearable.”

“I want to help you fight against them.”

Keith glanced to him. “You’re not going back to Earth?”

Before Shiro answered, Hunk broke through on the ship’s communication system. “Keith, Shiro. Dinner’s ready and you better hurry before Lance eats it—hey, I made that for Shiro!”

The lift began to ascend. 

“You have a good team,” Shiro said after a moment. 

Keith smiled. “Yeah.”

* * *

Shiro was the centerpiece at dinner. Hunk had done his best to recreate American comfort food and served pizza with an uneven crust and strange vegetable toppings, and a dish that passed for macaroni and cheese.

“Figured you were a little homesick, and who doesn’t love pizza?” Hunk said, setting a plate before Shiro.

“Thank you,” Shiro said sincerely. “This looks great.”

“There’s plenty more so don’t hold back,” Hunk said. “And if you have any requests, let me know. I’ll do what I can. I’m the resident gourmand.”

Shiro looked blissful as he took his first bite. Keith watched him eat but caught Lance staring at him and started on his own plate. 

“Shiro, have you thought about what you want to do now?” Matt asked.

“I haven’t discussed it with Keith or the princess yet, but I’d like to stay here for the time being. Get my bearings back.”

“You are more than welcome to stay for as long as you like,” Allura said.

“Hey, with Shiro here,” Lance cut in with a full mouth, circling his fork in the air and looking thoughtful. “Maybe we can finally form Voltron.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Keith mumbled. 

“Lance!” Pidge scolded.

“What?” Lance said. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”

Shiro turned to Keith. “You’re having trouble forming Voltron?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Keith said, hoping to reassure him and the rest of the team, but it had the opposite effect. Everyone looked away and down, and Shiro looked embarrassed. 

“I—I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“That’s not...can we talk about this later?”

“Of course.” Shiro looked across the table to Matt, unaffected. “I’m sorry your work was lost. I know you and your father were both excited to get back and analyze the core samples.”

Matt scratched his head. “I can’t say I’m glad about what happened to us, exactly, but I’ve learned more in the past year than I could have in a lifetime. The scientific advancements we’ll be able to make once Zarkon is defeated...I mean, look at that arm of yours!”

Lance stabbed a noodle. “You can always trust Matt to _address_ the elephant in the room.” 

Allura canted her head. “What’s an elephant?” 

“I’ll show you pictures later,” Matt said.

“Forget later! I’ll show you right now.” Lance tapped on his watch and held it toward her. Allura made a delighted face. 

Shiro studied his prosthesis, rotating it to look first at his palm and then at the back of his hand. “I didn’t want to use it at first, but this thing is unbelievable. I don’t have to think about using it. It works as well as my other arm.”

“Sounds kind of like our lions,” Pidge said. 

“Hey, how come they…” Hunk started to ask, gesturing toward Shiro’s arm, but Pidge elbowed him in the ribs. “Sorry, that was insensitive. My bad.”

“I was injured,” Shiro said easily. “There was nothing malicious behind it.”

Shiro was doing his best to appear composed, but Keith knew from his posture, the way Shiro had straightened his back to military stance, that he was uncomfortable. He’d locked his right arm in his lap and was using his other hand to eat. Keith couldn’t exactly embrace Shiro right now and if he made up an excuse why they needed to leave before Hunk served dessert, it would only draw attention. He settled for laying a hand on Shiro’s prosthetic arm under the table. Immediately, Shiro relaxed his shoulders and the smile that had seemed forced moments before melted to something genuine. His arm buzzed with quiet energy instead of a heartbeat.

* * *

After they’d eaten, Keith accompanied him to the medical wing and watched him pause inside the door, then step through and toward the half-circle of vertical healing pods.

“They’re really transparent,” Shiro said, sounding relieved. He curled his hand into the hem of his shirt. “Do I need to get undressed?”

“There are special suits. I’m not actually sure what difference they make. I think they monitor your vitals.”

“I’ll change.”

“The suits are in that room.” Keith pointed to a door. “Do you need help?”

“I’ll call you if I do.”

Shiro took longer than he should have to get dressed, but he managed to get the suit on and fastened at the back. It was bunched up over the bandages. He’d begun to sweat along his hairline and the skin was pinched between his eyebrows, but Shiro went up to the first pod and pressed the button to open it. 

“There are automatic and timed cycles,” Keith said. “Which do you want?”

“Maybe an hour to start.” Shiro looked at Keith over his shoulder, then stepped in. “I can figure it out on my own. I’m sure you have things you need to take care of.”

“I told you, I’m off duty today. Is it okay if I close this?”

Shiro nodded jerkily.

“Just look at me, okay?” Keith closed the pod. “Keep looking at me.”

Shiro fixed on his eyes, glancing back and forth between them. His own eyes were glassy. Keith put a hand to the clear door.

“I’ll be right here the whole time.”

“You don’t have to wait for me.”

“I want to,” Keith said. 

He didn’t understand why Shiro’s lip quivered, why he cried when Keith said that. 

Keith stayed next to that healing pod for an hour, monitoring Shiro’s vitals, watching his eyes dart beneath his closed eyelids. Shiro was dreaming. His face didn’t look troubled—it wasn’t a nightmare—but there was still tension Keith wished he could smooth away. 

He unsealed the pod as soon as the healing cycle had completed, opening it before Shiro opened his eyes. 

“Feel any better?” he asked. 

Shiro smiled warmly and stretched his arms. 

“I have a lot more energy. I don’t know how long it’s going to last, but thank you. I should’ve done that as soon as I came on board.”

Keith ground his foot into the floor. “So...you probably want to sleep now, huh.”

“Actually, I’m wide awake but you look exhausted. Why don’t I walk you back to your room?”

“I was thinking of going to the bridge for a while. It’s quiet after everyone's off duty. They're probably in the rec room.”

“Do you mind if I come with you?”

“You’re the only person I never mind being around.”

“I’m honored.” Shiro touched his arm. “Give me a minute to get changed.”

They walked out of the medical wing side by side. 

“How long have you been on this ship?” Shiro asked.

“I guess it’s been about ten months now. We were on Arus for a long time. That’s the planet where we found the castle. We spent about a month training and trying to get used to the lions, but no matter what we did, Voltron wouldn’t form.” Keith took a breath. “Allura finally agreed to let us work separately. We’ve stayed out of big fights. Mostly we’re going planet to planet looking for allies, but a lot of the species we run into—they’re not equipped to fight. That’s why they were overthrown in the first place.”

“But you have formed it?”

“Yeah, there have been a couple times we were surrounded and somehow it worked, but I don’t know what we did those times that was different.”

“Maybe it’s the urgency,” Shiro said. “Sometimes when there’s no other option, that’s when you believe in yourself the most.”

“Maybe.”

The bridge was quiet, lights at half brightness. Keith shut them off entirely and stood in front of the immense view screen with Shiro at his side. It was comfortable, being quiet with Shiro, but after so much time apart Keith wanted to talk with him, to hear his voice. What would he have said if they were back on Earth? 

“Hey, how was your mission?”

“Kerberos?” Shiro sounded surprised. “It was great. The flight took a couple months, but we didn’t run into any problems. The ship flew well. And Matt and his dad are both really good guys. We laughed a lot. I wish I had pictures to show you.”

“You’ll have to go again,” Keith said. 

“Maybe you’ll come with me next time. We can take a picture together on a moon.” Shiro cleared his throat. “Hey, Keith, before you left Earth...do you know if Adam was...”

“They held a service for you. I didn’t go.”

“Oh. May I ask why not? Were you mad at me for leaving too?”

“It’s ‘cause I never believed you were dead.”

Shiro smiled and ruffled Keith’s hair. “I missed your stubbornness. So before all this, what did you get up to while I was away?”

Keith crossed his arms. “Like I said, I was pretty lost for a while.”

“Because you got kicked out?”

“Because you were missing and there wasn’t anything I could do. It was one thing when I knew you were coming back but...” Keith’s eyes welled up but he kept talking. “I went riding a lot. Guess you could say I did a lot of soul searching. Eventually I found these caves that were full of paintings that told the story of a Blue Lion. They predicted an arrival. Some part of me was convinced it’d be you, but it was the Holts who showed up and I—” His voice cracked. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You found me.” Shiro enclosed him with his arms. “You found me.”

Immediately, Keith felt safe—like he had when he believed Shiro had come to him during the trials. Shiro’s heart beat steadily and fast. Keith put an ear to his chest and with each beat felt calmer. He brought his arms up slowly, and he slowly hugged Shiro to him. Maybe it was childish, this desire to be held, but as long as Shiro didn’t mind, as far as Keith was concerned he’d stay like this forever. 

“Are you okay?” Shiro asked after a while.

“Yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Yeah.”

Shiro adjusted his arms and leaned his cheek against Keith’s hair. And even after he’d calmed down, Shiro didn’t let go. He reassured him with the constant movement of his hands, like waves up and down Keith’s back as they watched the stars. 


	7. Chapter 7

Three days later, Keith resumed his duties on board, and Shiro occupied himself in the training room and in the Altean language lab, where he had more success than any humans on the ship had managed. Pidge shivered when he said he’d been studying the language. Thanks to Hunk, Shiro had begun to put on weight, and after his first week had regained the color in his face. His eyes looked brighter, and whenever Shiro looked at him, Keith thought his heart would stop. 

He always accompanied him to the medical wing. The healing pods wouldn’t cure Shiro’s disease, but regular cycles restored his muscle function and had completely healed the injuries to his arm. But it was ineffective on the ones he’d received before. He’d bear those scars for life. 

They ate all of their meals together, and after the crew had gone to bed, they often met on the bridge. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes Shiro put an arm around him and they said nothing. 

Even with his strength returning, he’d fall asleep on Keith’s shoulder sitting up in bed or when they sat with the others in the lounge after dinner. Lance looked at them strangely after it had happened a handful of times. 

“How come Shiro only falls asleep on Keith?”

Hunk squinted. “Do you _want_ Shiro to fall asleep on you?”

“I just want to know what Keith has that I don’t.”

“I’ll explain it to you later,” Matt said and clapped his hands on his thighs. “I’ve got a test running, so I’m going to get a few hours of sleep before I need to check on it. Keith, do you want me to help you get him back to his room?”

“Thanks,” Keith said, lifting Shiro’s head from his shoulder. “Grab his left side.”

Shiro woke up enough to walk, although he didn’t object to the two of them helping him. Matt left them outside his door. 

“Can you take him from here?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

Keith smiled and guided Shiro into the room. Shiro undressed and got into bed by himself. “I am lucky,” he said. He reached for Keith’s hand and as he fell asleep, he was squeezing it and he was squeezing his heart.

* * *

Shiro had been with them on the ship for almost a month when they received the request from the Blade of Marmora. In addition to Keith’s presence, Shiro’s was also requested. The entire team gathered on the bridge. 

“We have been working with the last piece of information you provided to Jumi,” Kolivan said to Shiro in the transmission. “Those coordinates are part of a regular trade route between the labor planet Proria and the rest of the empire. Proria produces a significant number of the empire’s ion weapons systems. One is scheduled to be transported to Central Command within a movement.”

“So about a week,” Shiro said. “You think that’s what he’s planning to steal?”

“A weapons system of that magnitude would benefit him if he is outfitting a ship.”

“He said he was going to sell it, whatever it is. Trugg agreed to split the profits.”

“We believe Trugg may be an unwilling pawn,” Kolivan said.

“So...her ships will take the bulk of the damage, and he’ll come in and steal the weapon?” Matt said. 

“And Trugg’s people will take the blame,” Kolivan said. “The weapon will likely be thought destroyed.”

“You’re asking us to stop this,” Keith said, frowning at the view screen. “Why would we want the weapon to be delivered?”

“Sendak’s faction is gaining support. We cannot risk him being the one put onto the throne after we remove Zarkon. He would not bring stability to the empire. It is critical we thwart his efforts.”

“Why not do it yourselves?” Lance said. 

“We don’t possess the weaponry needed to go up against Sendak. If we are correct and he arrives to take possession of the weapons system, only Voltron can defeat him. But there is more. We suspect the convoy may also be smuggling a purified form of quintessence off of Proria.”

“Quintessence?” Matt said. 

“There is a top-secret manufacturing facility on the planet. One vial would be enough to power a fleet. We believe this is Sendak’s true motive. He may even allow the weapon to be destroyed in order to conceal its theft.”

“I thought Sendak was loyal to Zarkon,” Pidge said. 

“Zarkon’s time is limited,” Kolivan said. “Sendak is aware of that. He has been quietly amassing followers.”

“When is this happening?” Keith said. 

“We estimate the ships will be at the specified coordinates within three quintants.”

“Give us a minute to talk it over.” Keith muted their side of the conversation and turned to Matt. “What do you think?”

“If Sendak gets ahold of quintessence that powerful, who knows what he’ll do with it. I’d like to study it, personally.”

Hunk nodded. “And if Zarkon finds out what Sendak was planning, it could break the trust within his inner circle. I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Allura?” Keith said. 

“It’s all conjecture,” she said. “But I will admit the Blade of Marmora is correct when they say that Sendak will not bring stability to the Galra. We cannot allow him to come to power.”

Keith turned to Shiro. “What do you think?”

“How come you’re asking his opinion?” Lance said. “He’s not even on the team.”

Keith felt that boiling-point spark of rage that had gotten him the boot from the Garrison, but Shiro settled him with a touch to his shoulder. “Lance is right. You and the team should discuss this without me here.”

“You spent months living with the Galra,” Keith argued. “You worked for the Blade. Can we trust them?”

“They’ve kept their promises to me,” Shiro said. “I got the impression that the Galra are fed a lot of propaganda about other species by the empire. I don’t think they innately trust anyone, but I believe the Blade is interested in doing what they say.”

“They probably distrust us as much as we distrust them,” Pidge said. “And we’ll be the ones with the quintessence.”

“Then we do it,” Keith said. He’d promised Kolivan, after all. 

There was murmuring of “agreed” and Keith unmuted the conversation. “Kolivan, you said this is happening soon?”

“Yes. We estimate the ships will be at the specified coordinates within sixty vargas.”

“Send us the coordinates.” 

“Consider it done. The Blade of Marmora will be in your debt.”

He bowed his head and ended the communication. Keith slumped in his chair. “As soon as we have the coordinates, we’ll head out that way. Everyone should be ready to get to your lions as soon as we see anything.”

“Kolivan said it’s happening three days from now,” Hunk said.

“He said they _think_ that’s when it’s happening,” Matt said. “If we’re late and Sendak gets ahold of it...I don’t mind waiting for a few days.”

“Me either,” Pidge said. 

“In that case, I guess I’ll get a bunch of food ready,” Hunk said. “Any requests?”

“Sandwiches maybe,” Keith said absently. 

“I’ll help you,” Pidge said and followed Hunk off of the bridge. 

“Kolivan has sent the coordinates,” Allura said. She’d moved to stand at her own controls, occupied with pre-calculations of the distance they would be traveling. Shiro had walked in her direction and was asking her questions about the ship’s capabilities, but Lance hadn’t moved.

“About Shiro,” he said.

Keith looked at him sharply. “You lay off of him.”

“Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. You know I respect him.”

Lance sounded genuinely apologetic. Keith rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I’m sorry for including him without asking the rest of you.”

“It might not be a bad idea to have him with us.”

“He’ll be with Allura on the bridge.”

“Maybe he ought to come with one of us,” Lance said. “I don’t know, I just think if Shiro’s out there with us, maybe we can figure out what we’ve been doing wrong all this time.”

Keith snorted. “So you want him to ride with me, is what you’re saying.”

“No offense, man, but you’re a lot calmer when he’s around.”

Lance wasn’t wrong, but Keith still felt annoyed that he’d pointed it out. The same thing had bothered him in flight school. He’d never had any trouble understanding the controls or getting a feel for the craft, but the moment his stress climbed, there was no tempering it. It would build until he was close to exploding, and that’s when he made mistakes. Shiro had taught him to focus, to get his breathing under control, and with Shiro beside him, Keith had recovered from a spin without breaking a sweat for the first time. 

He hooked a hand behind his neck. “I’ll take him with me if he wants to go.”

“I wish we knew what kind of ships we’d be dealing with. Small stuff? A Galra cruiser?”

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith said and Shiro turned his head. “Did Sendak say what kind of ships they’d be sending?”

“Uh...Trugg mentioned cargo ships. That’s as much as I know.”

“So all we have to do is protect the convoy from a few cargo ships and get this quintessence to the Blades so it doesn’t fall into Sendak’s hands?” Lance said.

“It’s still dangerous,” Matt said. “Even if they won’t have the big cruisers with them.”

“Assuming they do bring a cruiser, Hunk and I can take out any weapons systems the way we did to the ship on Iluia,” Lance said. “That way they can’t fire on the convoy.”

“The most important thing is preventing those ships from being boarded,” Allura said. “We don’t want any of the cargo offloaded.”

“How long until we get there?” Keith said. Allura didn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m still calculating the route,” she said. 

Keith slumped lower in his chair and chewed on his lip. Shiro returned to him, standing beside Keith’s chair, and put a hand on his shoulder. Keith wondered if he’d done it to prove something to Allura or if it had been for his sake. 

“Did you sleep last night?” Shiro asked quietly. 

“I got a few hours.”

“Your shoulders are tight. Turn that way a little.” 

Keith sat sideways, leaning forward over his knees, and closed his eyes as Shiro began to rub the knots in his shoulders.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Keith said. “Do you want to do a treatment today?” 

“Maybe after dinner. How’s that?”

“Hurts like hell but it feels good. Oh, right there.”

“Hey,” Lance said. “Do you two maybe want to take this to a room?” 

They turned in sync to look at him. Lance had a funny expression on his face and was slightly pink. 

“Huh?” Keith said. 

Shiro removed his hands from Keith’s shoulders. “Sorry,” he said and moved away. 

“I’m going to calculate the jump,” Allura said. “We should be there in a few ticks.”

“We should take shifts watching for the convoy,” Matt said. “Keith, Shiro...maybe you ought to rest for a while. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“You don’t mind going first?” Keith said. 

“I’m wide awake.”

“Okay. Hopefully they’re ahead of schedule and we don’t have to be out here long.”

* * *

But three days came and went, and the convoy was nowhere to be seen. The team was running on adrenaline fumes and had finally taken to their lions to wait, along with a stack of sandwiches Hunk had prepared for each of them. At Lance’s continued urging, Shiro went with Keith in the Black Lion to keep watch, and while he was annoyed Lance had gotten his way, Keith felt better having Shiro near him.

“Maybe we ought to contact Kolivan again,” Keith said, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. 

“Just be patient,” Shiro said. 

“If this is a convoy, where are the ships?”

“They’ve probably gotten delayed.”

“Or Sendak figured out we were coming and they attacked sooner,” Lance cut in.

Keith groaned. “We shouldn’t just be _sitting_ here.”

“Hey,” Shiro said to him. “What did I teach you?

“I know, I know. Patience. Allura, Coran—is there anything on your scanners?”

“Nothing yet,” Coran said. “I promise you’ll be the first to know!”

“How long do we stay here?” asked Pidge.

“I’m betting we already missed them,” Lance said. 

“No,” Hunk said. “I didn’t pick up any recent emission spectrums in the area.” 

Keith looked at Shiro. “Are you sure you heard the coordinates right?” 

“I’m positive the coordinates I reported are the ones I heard, yes.”

“I’m not doubting you.”

“I didn’t think you were. I would ask the same thing in your place.”

“How long would you wait?” 

“Maybe another day? How long do you think Sendak’s people will wait?”

Keith sighed. “Guys, just sit tight. We’re going to wait this out.” 

“I’m tired,” Lance moaned. 

“We’re all tired, Lance,” Pidge said. 

Time dragged. Keith moved to sit on the floor next to Shiro and shoved half a sandwich into his mouth to stay awake. Shiro laughed.

“You hate this, don’t you.”

“I hate sitting around doing nothing.”

“It won’t be nothing to the people on the ships,” Shiro said. 

“If you don’t want to wait around for this anymore, I can drop you back at the castle.”

“I’d rather stay with you. I’m pretty used to waiting.”

He’d said it casually, like he was talking about checkout lines or the DMV, not waiting to be forced into combat. Keith wasn’t sure if he could ask about it, if Shiro wanted him to, or if talking about it so casually was his way of deflecting. 

“Waiting, huh?” Keith said. 

Shiro nudged him with his shoulder. “How many demerits did you get for tardiness your first year at the Garrison, cadet?”

“You’re bringing that up now?” Keith shoved the other half of his sandwich in Shiro’s mouth. “That was almost five years ago, old timer. And who’s the one that—”

“Hey, if you two are done flirting,” Lance cut in, “Coran just said there’s something on the scanner.”

They scrambled to their feet. 

“There,” Shiro said, pointing. They were very small, but in the distance Keith could see a glinting line of cargo ships, definitely a convoy, headed in their direction. 

“Let’s approach slowly. Be on the lookout for enemy ships,” Keith said, settling back into his chair and putting his hands on the controllers. Shiro stood at his side. Black seemed relieved too, stretching its legs and rumbling throughout its frame. Keith grinned. “Yeah, I hear you.”

“Nothing on visual,” Matt said. “Anyone see anything?”

“Maybe they called it off,” Pidge said. 

The ships were nothing more than a standard unmarked cargo fleet traveling in formation. They bore no signs of a fight, no blast marks, no exterior damage. 

“This is weird, right?” Hunk said. “Protecting the Galra from the Galra. What do we do if they don’t show up? Do we take the quintessence anyway?”

“We have no idea if it’s on board,” Allura said. “We’d be attacking a ship without provocation.”

“The ships came from Proria,” Pidge said. “Maybe the people on board aren’t actually Galra. We should try talking to them.”

“Allura, see if you can make contact,” Keith said. 

“All right. Stand by.” She came back onto the line a few moments later. “They’re not answering.”

“Hey, you guys?” Pidge said. “What if Lance was right? What if we are too late?”

“The ships are fine, Pidge,” Matt said. “We can see them. And you heard what Hunk said.”

“I’m gonna go in closer. I should be able to look in.”

“What for?” Matt said. 

“To see who’s actually on those ships.”

“You think they’ve already been boarded,” Keith said. 

“Assuming that’s true, they’ve stayed their course,” Shiro said. “Why?”

“Cause they knew we’d be here. Sendak must’ve known there was a leak. Maybe he found out you’d escaped.”

“We should get out of here,” Shiro said. 

“Not if there’s quintessence on that ship.”

“Something’s happening,” Coran said. “There, on the third ship. There’s a panel opening.”

“They’re putting someone out an airlock!” Pidge said.

The Green Lion darted toward the body floating away from the cargo ship. It opened its mouth, scooping it from death. Another was ejected from the fifth ship in the line. 

“Pidge, to your left,” Matt called. 

“I see it!”

More followed, tumbling into space like rag dolls. Pidge darted to catch them; Matt followed with Red, and then Lance. Hunk and Keith remained between the castle and the ship. 

“They’ll put them all out at this rate,” Allura said. 

“Let them,” Keith said. “Once everybody’s off the ships, we can go in.”

“They might start killing them next,” she said.

“They probably already have,” said Shiro. 

Hunk sighed. “I wish we could just beam on board.”

“This isn’t TV, Hunk!” Lance snapped. “You go right, Matt, I’ll go left.”

“Roger.”

From the dark space beyond them, something massive loomed, shimmering into place.

“They were cloaked,” Shiro said. 

“We’ve got company,” Keith shouted. “Allura, get the barrier up. Matt, Lance.”

“I see it, I see it,” Lance said. “We’re still retrieving people.”

The Galra cruiser fired on the castle. The blast ricocheted off of the particle barrier, shaking the Black Lion. Keith and Hunk fired back, but their lasers couldn’t penetrate the cruiser’s shields. From its side came a stream of drone fighters.

Keith launched forward. “Hunk, see what you can do about that cannon,” he said, taking aim for a drone headed toward Matt. He took it out with one shot. “Hold on to something,” he told Shiro. “Matt, Lance, I’m gonna lay down some covering fire for you.”

“There are so many of them,” Matt yelled. 

Drones darted toward them. Allura aimed the castle’s weapons at the Galra ship but hadn’t broken through its barrier yet. Keith took out one drone after another, feeling each blast that struck his lion as though it had hit him directly, terrified for Shiro’s life and wishing he hadn’t brought him on board. He could be killed if Keith didn’t do something. 

“I can’t get close to the cannon,” Hunk said. “I can’t get past their shields.”

“We have everyone they ejected,” Pidge said. “I’m going back to the castle.”

“Pidge, wait.” Keith shot down another drone. “Everyone stay here.”

“Do you want to try it?” Matt said, out of breath. 

“We don’t have another option. Allura’s not getting through and neither is Hunk.”

“Are we really doing this?” Hunk said. “Right now?”

Lance whooped. “Time to form us a giant robot!”

“Anyone remember how we did this the last time it worked?” Keith said. 

“I think we were flying in formation,” Pidge said. 

“All right, let’s try it.”

“We have one shot at this,” Matt said. “The drones are following us.”

“That cruiser has activated a tractor beam,” Allura said. 

Keith tightened his hands on his controls even as he felt the beam’s effect on the lion. “Don’t think about them. Everyone focus on your lions.”

“I’m caught in the beam,” Lance said. “I can’t move forward.”

“Similar problem here,” Hunk said. 

“Use your boosters,” said Pidge. “They might provide enough thrust to escape it.”

“What if we blow up?” Keith said. 

“Just trust me!”

Keith slammed his hand on the button to activate the booster and pulled away from the beam, away from the Galra ship. There was no option but to come together. The lions alone weren’t enough to take down that ship, and even if they could outrun it in open space with the boosters, Sendak would get the quintessence. 

“Shiro, are you okay?” Keith said. 

“Don’t worry about me. You can do this.”

Keith focused on Shiro’s words. After his father had died, he’d had no one. No family members came to take him in. He’d hoped his mother might come back and held out hope those first nights in an unfamiliar bed, but he’d been forgotten in the system. No one—not his teachers or his classmates—could see past his situation and eventually he’d stopped trying to be anything else. 

It had taken Keith a long time to trust that Shiro wouldn’t leave the way foster families and caseworkers had, that he wouldn’t join the parade of disappointments that made up Keith’s life. Keith was used to being alone. But Shiro had reminded him of the warmth of family and no matter how hard he’d tried to push him away, Shiro resisted—but he hadn’t broken through Keith’s walls. Keith had knocked them down willingly and let Shiro in.

He had to let the others in. 

Black roared, something Keith felt through every part of himself, and he gasped as the lion overtook him, as he felt himself pushed backwards in his chair. His palms grew scorching on the controls. 

“We’ve done this before,” Keith said. “We can do this.”

He _knew_ when they were connected. It was the same indescribable feeling he’d had on Earth when he’d discovered Blue, the same need that had led him to Shiro’s side. He could feel the other four paladins inside of him: their elation, their fear. They were connected for the first time in months—not tenuously, as they had been in the past, but intertwined. 

“Matt, sword!” 

It cut through the ship’s barrier in one swing, and with the second, its hull. The lights in the ship flickered like a sinking boat and went dark, and half of the ship began to drift away. Around it, the drones stopped accelerating and floated aimlessly, striking one another. One collided with the cruiser and caused a small explosion. 

The cargo ships had put on speed and broken formation, scattering in multiple directions. 

“Follow that one still on the original course,” Keith said. 

“How do you know that one’s not a decoy?” Lance said.

“I don’t, just stay on it.”

“Paladins,” Allura cut in. “One of the ships is headed toward the cruiser.”

“We can’t chase all of them,” Matt said. 

“Yeah,” Hunk said. “But going toward the ship, that’s a little suspicious.”

“I can’t fire on it without destroying it,” Allura said. “It’s too small. If it is carrying the quintessence...”

“My vines!” Pidge said. The Green Lion emitted a stream of energy that totally surrounded the cargo ship, pulling it back from the cruiser. “Got it!”

“Pidge, can you tow it back?” Keith said. 

“No problem.”

Voltron glided away from the cruiser, toward the castle ship, but another explosion knocked them sideways. The vines tethering the ship snapped whip-like but held. 

“They’re firing at us,” Hunk said.

“ _Who_ is?” Lance said. 

“That blast came from the cruiser,” Allura said. 

They turned as one in that direction, in time for a second blast to strike the vine, damaging it, but not severing the connection entirely. Allura fired back at them. 

“I thought we knocked out their power,” Keith said. “How are their weapons operational?”

“They must have backup,” Matt said. “They’re aiming for the cargo ship.” 

“Are they crazy?” Lance said. “They’ve got their own people on board.”

“They don’t care as long as we don’t have the quintessence,” Keith said. “Lower the particle barrier. We’re coming in.” 

“We have to destroy that cruiser,” Allura said. 

“If they hit the cargo ship and the quintessence is on board, it’ll explode,” Matt said. 

“And if I lower the barrier while their cannon is operational, I risk the castle. You _must_ protect the cargo ship.”

The cruiser fired another series of blasts. One struck the Blue Lion as they flew behind the castle, shielding the cargo ship behind its barrier. 

“This is great,” Hunk said. “We’re in the most powerful weapon in the known universe and we’re babysitting.”

“Believe me, it’s better than that thing going off,” Matt said. “The only ones who would get it worse than us are the people inside that ship.”

There was a collective murmur of agreement. Allura fired three more rounds.

“Inside...” Keith said, recalling what Ulaz had said during the flight to the arena planet. _A Galran in your friend’s place would expect to die so as not to risk the others._ He broke into a cold sweat. 

“They’re gonna blow it up,” he said. 

“Not if I can help it,” Allura said. 

“No, I mean they’re gonna blow it up from the inside. We have to get away from this thing as soon as possible.”

“I’m getting some strange energy readings,” Coran said. “And the cruiser has stopped firing.”

“Pidge, cut your vines,” Keith said. “Allura, how fast can you get a wormhole open?” 

“I’ll need a minute.”

“We don’t _have_ a minute. Matt, throw it! Now!”

The cargo ship arced away from them and exploded.

The blast was screaming white, brighter than the sun. Keith gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes as tightly as he could, but he couldn’t raise his arms to block the light for all the force slamming him backwards into his chair. The explosion wrenched Voltron apart, tearing the paladins’ consciousnesses from one another, and sent the Black Lion hurtling backwards. 

* * *

When they finally stopped moving, Keith couldn’t hear the other paladins anymore. The inside of the lion was dark and unresponsive. He tried his intercom, but there was nothing, not even static. His stomach and chest throbbed where the restraints had dug into him. His fingers fumbled for the release. The strap floated up and Keith’s arms felt lighter. The lion’s gravity generator was down. 

“Shiro,” he managed to say. “Shiro?”

“I’m not hurt,” Shiro said. “Are you okay?”

Keith closed his eyes, leaning forward to catch his breath. Shiro came to him and knelt down. Keith’s hands were locked on his knees. He breathed in gulps. It was a few seconds before he could see clearly, before Shiro’s eyes came into focus, fixed on him and filled with concern. He’d taken off his helmet. The front of his hair, damp with sweat, stuck to his forehead. Dazed, Keith took off his own helmet and laid it aside.

“Hey. Are you still with me?” Shiro said with a nervous laugh. “Take a deep breath. That’s it. Now let it out.”

“We formed it.” 

“You did great.” 

Keith began to cough and Shiro drew him forward, bringing Keith’s head to rest on his shoulder. He put his arms around him. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

“Fuck. I thought...” Keith inhaled against his neck. “I thought I was going to get you killed.” 

“That didn’t happen.” Shiro tightened his arms, and while Keith should’ve felt safe, it somehow made him feel desperate, and all of the pain from the past two years came rushing out.

“You have no idea how alone I was when you went missing. It was killing me. They said you were dead, that there was no point looking. That I was crazy to think you were still alive. They all just _gave up_. Everyone. Every last one of them.”

Shiro rocked him slowly. “Well, I’m grateful to you. Thank you for never giving up on me.”

Keith’s arms were trapped between them. He worked his right arm free and brought it around Shiro’s back, clutching him to his chest. Eventually, Shiro would let go of him and _this_ embrace would become a memory like the others. It would become the last hug Shiro had ever given him—maybe the last he ever would. So Keith held on, desperate to commit every detail to memory, from the warmth of Shiro’s skin to the flavor of salt on his neck. 

He realized belatedly what he’d done, tensing when Shiro took a sharp breath, but there was no way to unwind time. There was a tipping point when it came to loving someone, when it came down to making a choice. Keith had reached that point now, at nineteen years old, as he was held by the only person besides his dad who’d ever given a damn about him. The only person who’d expected him to make something of himself. It was far from the first time he’d been aware of his feelings for Shiro, but it was the first he’d felt compelled to act on them. 

Keith kissed his neck again, and this time Shiro shivered.

Keith didn’t wait to hear the protest. He lifted his head to kiss his mouth. Shiro made a surprised noise but didn’t move. He didn’t push Keith away. Feeling bold, Keith slid a hand behind Shiro’s neck, into his hair, gripping a fistful of it. 

Shiro groaned. He took Keith’s face in his hands and kissed him back into the chair like he would devour him. 

Keith’s mind went blissfully silent. He’d never kissed someone he loved before. It was like floating, not aimlessly as in space but _free_. Shiro’s lips were softer than Keith had imagined. He kissed Keith as though they were already lovers. 

“...eith? Keith, are you there?”

The static crackle of Matt’s voice jolted him back to reality. Keith froze mid-motion, his lips pressed against Shiro’s. He became aware of the rapid beating of his heart, so fast he was breathless; the size of Shiro’s hands against his face—one warm, one cool; the way Shiro pulled away from him with guilt in his eyes, like a child caught playing with something that isn’t a toy. 

The space between them grew and only became wider.

Keith shakily wiped his mouth. “Matt. Where are you?”

“About a thousand yards from you. Is your lion working?”

“My power’s knocked out. Yours?”

“We’re good. I’m coming for you.”

“What about the others?”

“They all made it back to the ship. You took the brunt of it. I’ll get behind you and push you in.”

Shiro had stood up and was fussing with his flight suit as he might have done a uniform, although there were no seams to fix, nothing to straighten. “Keith...” he began to say, in the same patient, yielding tone he’d always adopted when he was about to say something Keith wouldn’t like. ( _This apartment’s not big enough for the three of us. I can’t pass you yet. I’ve been selected for a mission and I’ll be gone for a year._ ) 

Keith didn’t want to hear whatever Shiro would say next. There’d be no way for him to unsay it, for Keith to pretend he hadn’t heard it. It was better Shiro never said anything and that the past few minutes were forgotten. He was most likely hung up on Adam, hoping he’d waited for him after all, and trying to think of the kindest way possible to reject Keith. 

Keith wasn’t sure he could stand a rejection from Shiro, not after what they’d done. But brothers—going back to the way they’d always been—that he could do.

“Sorry,” Keith said. “I lost it for a minute there.”

The relief that flashed across Shiro’s face was a little heartbreaking. “You’re okay now?”

Keith wiped his mouth again. “Yeah. Sorry for freaking out on you.” 

He put his helmet on and waited for Matt’s arrival, hoping Shiro would let it go for now, but he walked up behind Keith and put a hand on each of his shoulders.

“Keith, we should talk about what just happened. If I stay, we’re going to be working together a lot.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Shiro was quiet for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Keith nodded and the weight from Shiro’s hands left his shoulders. Shiro stepped beside the chair and kept one hand on the back of it, no longer touching Keith. He flattened the other on the ceiling.

“You really kept it together back there. You’re a good leader. I’d be proud to serve under you.”

Keith latched onto the change in topic. 

“You really want to stay?” he asked. 

“If I’d be allowed. I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare lion?”

“Afraid not.”

“I think I can still be useful. I can help you train. I speak a decent amount of Galran.”

“You’re not in a hurry to get home?”

Shiro glanced out the viewport. “You were about the only thing I was coming home to. I guess what I’m saying is, I’m officially requesting permission to stay.”

“You can relax, Shiro. This isn’t the Garrison. If you want to stay, you can stay.”

Shiro nodded. “Keith, I really think we should—”

“Keith. Shiro.” Matt’s voice came through the speaker again. “I’m behind you now. Making contact in three, two...”

The impact of the Red Lion knocked Keith forward in his seat. They glided the remaining distance to the castle. The other paladins were waiting on the hangar deck.

“We did it!” Pidge said, running at Keith as they came down the ramp. “Sure there was that snafu at the end, but we formed Voltron.”

“Yeah, you guys were awesome out there. Sorry I lost control.”

“No one could have maintained it with the amount of quintessence blasted at you.” Allura said. “Are you both all right?”

“Fine,” Keith said. “But I think Black will be out of commission for a while. How are the other lions?”

“A few scratches,” Hunk said. “Nothing a little TLC can’t fix.”

“The Prorians we rescued are going to be fine,” Allura said. “Coran is getting them into replenishers, and we’ll get them back to their planet once they’re healed.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lance squinted at Keith’s face. “You look a little feverish.”

Keith waved him off. “Just overheated. Matt, we should check in with the Blades. Let them know what happened.”

“How come it’s just you and Matt?” Lance said.

“By the way, Shiro’s staying,” Keith said and escaped while the rest of them were busy celebrating.


	8. Chapter 8

Keith hardly slept that night. His mind wouldn’t settle. He lay awake for hours after the team had gone to bed, aware of every tick and groan in the body of the ship, of a growing sense of exhaustion in his body. He must have drifted in and out of consciousness a few times, because in the morning he recalled bits of conversations he’d never had, memories that didn’t belong to him. He’d never kissed Shiro in his apartment, but the image was seared into his mind. 

Shiro didn’t seem to be affected by what had happened between them at all. He was as bright and cheerful as always, welcoming Keith into the dining room the next morning and chatting with the other paladins about alien customs and the Garrison’s training regimens. Occasionally he’d look up at Keith and smile, no more or less distant than usual. 

Shiro even offered to spar with him after breakfast was over. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Keith asked, feeling stupid for asking since Shiro was the one who’d suggested it in the first place. Shiro was the only one who should decide if he should be fighting or not, but it didn’t stop Keith from feeling guilty. 

Shiro looked at him kindly. “I can’t avoid everything that reminds me of that place. Or are you afraid you can’t beat me?”

He was faster than Keith remembered and had him pinned within three minutes. Keith lay on his back underneath him trying to catch his breath. Shiro’s face was slightly flushed. There was a sheen on his forehead and his hair had come loose, falling in waves around his face. Keith made fists to keep from reaching up to touch it. 

“You’re out of practice,” Shiro said, smiling down at him. 

It has always been enough that he was important to Shiro. He’d never hoped to compete with Adam. Keith had only been a kid, and he’d known there was no way Shiro would look at him the way Keith had wanted him to—-not at Keith’s age, not when Shiro already had someone important in his life. The most he’d hoped for was that Shiro would return home from the mission safely, that they’d still grab dinner sometimes or race off cliffs in the desert. Anything to be near him. 

But Keith had kissed him now. He knew what it felt like to have Shiro’s hands cup his face, the slippery wet of his tongue. The way he moaned when he was turned on. How was he supposed to forget that? He couldn’t help but want to feel Shiro’s lips again, to put his arms around him and have Shiro mess him up right here on the training floor. Keith’s heart was frantic. He couldn’t control it or the rest of his body, already screaming awake because Shiro had pinned him. There was lightning in his stomach. 

Shiro licked his lips and Keith shoved him off, afraid Shiro could read everything he was thinking. 

“Is something wrong?” Shiro said. “Did I hurt you?”

It had been possible for Keith to hide his feelings when there had been someone else in the picture, but as it stood, there was no chance of moving past this. Not with Shiro this close. As much as he didn’t want to, Keith had to put some distance between them for a while—a couple weeks, just until he could stand to be in the same room. 

“No, I’m good,” he lied. 

“Want to try for two out of three?”

He wanted to say, _I love you_. He wanted his heart to stop beating so fast, for Shiro to look at him like he had in the lion. He wanted Shiro to take off his clothes and crawl through every part of him. 

“Think I’m done for the day,” Keith said and for the next two hours, took his frustration out on the training drones.

He was awake for the better part of three days in a sort of delirium, unable to shake the feeling of Shiro’s lips. It was Shiro’s hands he imagined touching him shamefully at night. He avoided the dining room and hit the training deck at odd hours, working himself to exhaustion. When they did meet, Keith had trouble looking at his face, but he forced himself. 

Shiro continued to behave so normally that Keith even considered he might have hallucinated the kiss altogether. The lack of sleep eroded his focus. He started demanding people repeat themselves and snapped if they looked annoyed. Matt eventually tracked him down in the Black Lion’s hangar. He’d come from the lab. He still had on his coat. 

“I thought you were feeling better now that Shiro’s here,” Matt said with a thin smile and ruffled his hair. 

Keith put down the cloth he’d been using to buff out a scratch. “I haven’t been sleeping.”

“You haven’t been changing your clothes, either. What happened between you and Shiro? And don’t say nothing. You have the worst poker face on the team.”

Keith put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor. “I did something I shouldn’t have and I need some space.”

“Oh.” Matt scratched his head. “Well, Kolivan did say he had work for you. Maybe this is a good time to take a break. Get off this ship for a while. Coran’s been talking about having us do more public outreach. We don’t need all five lions for that. If something comes up, we can call you back.” 

“I guess.”

Matt stooped down to catch Keith’s eye. “Whatever you did, I’m sure Shiro will forgive you.”

“I’m gonna contact Kolivan.” 

“And then you should take a nap. You look awful.”

“You’ll keep an eye on him while I’m gone?”

“Shiro? Of course. Are you going to tell him you’re leaving?”

“I’ll say goodbye to everyone before I go.”

“Keith...” Matt folded his arms. “This is your decision, obviously, but I don’t want you to regret something after the fact. From what I saw on the Blade of Marmora’s base—”

“Forget what you saw there, okay? It wasn’t real. I’ll let you know what Kolivan says.” 

He left Matt in the hangar, and he left the castle that afternoon in a pod with Shiro’s scent on his clothes.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Shiro saw next to nothing of Keith. It seemed he was always on his way to talk with Matt and Allura, or fresh from a training session, or about to leave on another mission for the Blades. They’d been in contact with him frequently, and while the requests had been for the entire team at first, Keith had been taking solo missions more and more often. 

To work around his absence, Coran scheduled public appearances for the team on as many worlds as would welcome them. With Keith gone, Shiro acted as his stand-in. He had to admit he liked being introduced as the team leader. Allura had found a flight suit for him and no one had objected to the casting. Coran had even worked Matt and Pidge’s “arms of Voltron” line into the show and added a musical number.

Shiro blamed himself for the change in Keith’s behavior. Things hadn’t been the same ever since what had happened in the lion. Keith had been upset—he’d always been impulsive—and Shiro had taken advantage of that. He knew firsthand what a mix of adrenaline and fear could do to someone. But Keith had been crying. Keith had kissed him. He’d never given up on Shiro, not for a moment. Shiro had even thought that Keith might be in love with him ( _this_ version of him that was scarred and broken), and holding Keith, seeing his tear-streaked face, he’d wanted to kiss him for the first time. 

Now Keith was avoiding him. If only he could reverse time.

Despite how strained their relationship had become, Keith continued to accompany him to the medical wing, standing outside of the pod even if they didn’t speak, and he never failed to be there when Shiro came out of the forced sleep. But he was away for longer and longer periods, and one night, it became necessary for Shiro to go to the medical wing by himself. Exercise alone couldn’t sustain him. Once he was asleep, he’d have no idea how much time had passed, so he requested an automatic cycle, and put his hand to the door where Keith would’ve pressed his if he’d been there.

The dream carried him back to the gladiator pit. He was at the center of it, locked inside a clear healing pod, encircled by a horde of opponents he’d felled: the beast Myzax, the fiend that had taken his arm, Suna who had mauled his face. They swiped at him, cracking the chamber. He fell onto the warm sand and lay there, unable to yell or move. They tore him apart, scattering his pieces across the sand as the crowd reveled in the bloodbath. And from the emperor’s box rang down the sound of Keith’s laughter. 

“Whoa, easy, Shiro. Easy. It’s Matt! Hang on, I’ll get you out of there.”

Matt opened the pod door and Shiro collapsed to his hands and knees, retching. Matt crouched down a few feet away. 

“We got a warning message that someone in a pod was in distress. I thought Keith usually came with you. Why didn’t you ask someone?”

Shiro wiped his mouth. “I’ve never had a problem before.”

“It can take the brain a long time to process trauma. Are you okay?”

“I had a nightmare.”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to blast that tube open with your Galra hand. It was glowing when I got down here. Do you want me to get in touch with Keith?”

“Please don’t bother him with something like this.”

“You’re his entire world, Shiro. You know that. He’d drop everything to be with you.”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t call him.” Shiro coughed again and leaned back against the pod. His throat was on fire. “Have you heard from him at all?”

“Not for a couple days.”

“How long was I in that pod?”

“About four hours. Next time, tell me if you’re coming down here. I’ll bring a book. Think you can walk?”

“Yeah.” 

Matt offered Shiro a hand, pulling him to his feet. He cleaned up while Shiro dressed and washed his mouth, and they walked together back to their quarters, pausing in the hall outside. 

“Do you want me to stay with you for a while?” Matt asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You always say that.” He glanced both ways down the hallway and lowered his voice. “Listen...I don’t know what happened between you and Keith, but I would hate to see you lose each other over a misunderstanding.”

“I took advantage of him in a weak moment.” 

“See, that’s funny, because I got the impression he thinks he did something to you.”

Shiro hesitated. “He said that?”

“Not in so many words, but I think I know him pretty well. I know he’d want to hear what happened to you just now. Are you gonna tell him?”

“I don’t want to make him worry.”

“Then don’t keep things from him. He’s not a kid you have to protect anymore.” 

“I know he’s not a kid.”

“Does he know that?” Matt paused. “You know, a couple days before we found you, Keith was worried the Black Lion had made a mistake when it chose him. I don’t think it did. I don’t think he’s wrong to choose you, either.”

“Matt...”

“You’re scared. Understandably. I know what happened before we left for Kerberos. It was really hard seeing you like that. But you’re working with a different set of variables here.”

“He can hardly stand to be in the same room with me.”

“Probably not for the reason you think. I doubt he’d want me to tell you this, but he agreed to work for the Blades in exchange for your location. When you first got here, he wouldn’t leave your side for days. I didn’t realize he’d stopped smiling until I saw you together again.”

Shiro let that sink in. “You know it’s a bad idea on a team this small.”

“Do you remember what my dad used to say, that if you get too worried about what can go wrong...”

“You might miss a chance to do something great,” Shiro finished. 

“Talk to Keith when he gets back. And rely on me once in a while, okay? There’s nothing wrong with asking for help. You should know that better than anyone. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Matt went into his room, but Shiro didn’t go into his own right away. He put his hand against the sensor for Keith’s door. It opened for him. He’d never been in Keith’s room by himself. It invaded his privacy, but Shiro didn’t want to be alone in his own room right now. He told himself that Keith wouldn’t mind him being here; that even if he were sleeping, he’d lift the blanket and invite Shiro to his side. 

Despite the scant personal belongings, the metal walls, Keith’s scent lingered in the room. It anchored him. Shiro spent a few seconds breathing it in and began to feel warmer. 

He sat on the bed as he’d done many times before and touched the picture of them on the wall, the one taken at the launch. He’d been heartbroken that day. But Keith had come, and though he’d tried to hide it, Shiro had noticed the devastation on his face. He’d never asked Shiro to stay. The last Shiro had seen of him, Keith was smiling just as he had in the picture. 

Beside it was the scrap of paper he’d noticed before, covered in a sequence of numbers. All of them were written in Keith’s handwriting, but they varied slightly in slant and darkness. They hadn’t been written in one sitting. The paper was thin, darkened from being handled so many times. A daily log. Shiro had originally thought it documented Keith’s time in space, but Keith had said they’d only been living on the ship for ten months when Shiro came on board—a year now. This log stretched back over two, and from its proximity to the photograph, Shiro suddenly understood. 

He lay down on the bed beneath them and found the courage to close his eyes. 

* * *

The following afternoon, the team performed on a planet that had only one clear day of weather in a calendar year. The crowd had been more enthusiastic than most, calling for two encores. It was disorienting to be applauded for once, to raise a hand to a crowd and wave. 

After the show, Shiro removed the powder and eye makeup Coran insisted they wear, and tied back his hair. He’d intended to cut it as soon as he’d healed and had blamed the delay on his arm, but the truth was, when he thought of how it had felt to lay his head on Keith’s lap and have Keith stroke his hair, he’d put down the scissors.

“What’s everyone doing after this?” he asked. 

“Pidge and I were going to play a game after we eat,” Hunk said. He was holding something that looked like a burrito. “You’re totally welcome to join.”

“A game?”

“Yeah, it’s a role-playing fantasy game. It might not be your thing, but please don’t judge.”

A game would be a good distraction. “I’ll play,” Shiro said.

Once they’d eaten and finished greeting the local population, which had been fascinated by Shiro’s size and the color of Matt’s hair, Shiro followed with Pidge back up to the castle ship in orbit around the planet. Pidge was a steady, crafty pilot and showed off the customizations she’d made to her lion.

“This is a cloaking device,” she said. “I’m working on a way to integrate it into all five lions, but I haven’t been able to get into Black since Keith left, and he seems distracted whenever he’s back.”

Shiro wanted to talk more with her about that, but Pidge was young and Keith was her leader. He approached it carefully.

“I’m sure he has a lot on his mind.”

“It never felt like he wanted to be a part of this, but now it’s like he’s running away.”

“I think he’s finding himself.” 

“He’s being selfish,” Pidge said. 

“It’s not a team if someone is forced to be a part of it. He has to want to be here.” 

“What about the rest of us? We have things we want too.”

“I hope you’ll be able to achieve them one day,” Shiro said. 

She shrugged. “Maybe. But back to the cloaking device, I can get into the Black Lion, but it doesn’t respond to anyone but Keith.”

“It growled at me once.”

Pidge whipped her head around. “When?”

“The day you gave me the tour of the ship. I tripped walking down the ramp and touched the wall.”

Pidge looked thoughtful. “Maybe it can tell you’re close to him.”

“Does the Red Lion respond to you because your brother pilots it?”

“Red doesn’t like anybody.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I think it would have been a better match for Keith.”

Shiro laughed. “Keith likes people. He just pretends he doesn’t.”

“He’s good at it. Hold on to something. I’m landing.”

“Watch your speed,” Shiro said, then put a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. Old habit.”

“Don’t apologize. I could use the help.”

“I’d be happy to work with you,” Shiro said, flattening a hand against the ceiling as she guided the lion into the hangar. “I’ve never flown one of these, but the basic principles are the same.”

Pidge powered down the lion and hopped out of her seat. “Really? You’d teach me?”

“Of course. To be honest, I’m pretty bored sitting around most days.”

“That’s great. I didn’t want to bother you, but it would be a big help. I was only at the Garrison for part of a year and I never got to fly the simulator.”

“I’d appreciate the diversion.”

“Maybe you can help all of us. Matt could definitely use it.”

Shiro grinned. “I won’t tell him you said that.”

Pidge announced Shiro’s offer to everyone gathered around the game table a few minutes later.

“Hey, guess what? Shiro said he’d help us train.”

“Seriously?” Hunk said. “I have so many questions. I can pay you in pizza.”

“You don’t have to give me anything,” Shiro said. “After all, I’m living here for free.”

“You’re doing us a great favor helping us with the show. And you’re really popular with the fans,” Coran said. “But now I have an incredibly important question for you. What do you want to _be_?”

Shiro blinked. “Excuse me?” 

“Create your character using this.” 

Coran passed him a transparent device, about as thick as a manila folder. Shiro scanned over his options. Mage, paladin, archer, thief...he couldn’t help but think of Tolkein’s novels. He’d never had an interest in fantasy. He’d wanted to be a pilot since he could remember. A child’s dream. Lots of kids had aspirations, but unlike his friends who’d settled for more mundane paths, Shiro hadn’t been intimidated by the dedication and the discipline required to follow his. 

Until he’d gotten sick, he’d never thought of being anything else. Even relationships had been secondary, but then Adam had come along. Shiro had never imagined himself as the marrying type, so when he began to think of the future in terms of “we,” it had been surprising. And when there was no longer a “we” and he was holding back tears for Keith’s sake, Shiro had wondered how he’d ever thought flying by itself could be enough.

To be here with Keith, to see him as a man, to work beside him—Shiro felt his eyes had been opened. Once, he’d thought he’d never recover from the pain of his relationship ending, but now it was difficult to remember the precise color of Adam’s eyes or why he’d stayed with him through fundamental disagreements. Shiro had been blinded by his love, but now that it had gone out, he was glad. 

He missed Keith, the way he’d brighten when Shiro looked at him. Shiro noticed these things now, the way Keith would casually touch him, how Shiro found himself inventing reasons to touch him in return. They’d always been in orbit. But Shiro had started looking at him differently from the moment Keith had brought him on board this ship. Keith wasn’t dependent on him like he’d been when they met. It had shifted to devotion. They were no longer an officer and cadet, and Keith was no longer the teenager asleep on his couch. He was the man who’d crossed the stars for him.

Shiro wasn’t sure when it had turned to love, only that when he thought of Keith, warmth flooded his chest and he wanted to be near him more than anything. Keith was as important to him as family, and Shiro would never do anything to compromise that—even if it meant never feeling Keith against him again. He’d happily spend the last days of his life beside him in whatever way Keith would allow. That’s what he wanted to be. 

“Uh...Shiro?” Lance said. 

Shiro snapped to attention. They were looking at him with varying degrees of concern. His fingers were still hovering above the screen. 

“Sorry. I got lost for a minute there.” He scanned the choices once more, but there was only one that appealed to him. “I think I’ll be a paladin.”

* * *

“I didn’t expect you to be so bad at that game,” Pidge was still saying two hours later. She was on the ground in front of the Black Lion’s controls. Shiro held up a flashlight. “You died like...six times. Hand me that wrench?”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Keith to get back?”

“I’m just taking a look inside the console.” 

She pried it open. The Black Lion didn’t respond. Shiro tried to hold the flashlight steady. The last time he’d been inside this lion was the day he wished he could erase, and seeing that chair again roused the memory of holding Keith in it. 

“So what are you doing, exactly?” he said to Pidge, trying to focus on the panel. 

“Since we’re not able to form Voltron most of the time, I’ve been working on modifications that give us a tactical advantage. This button activates the rocket booster we used to escape the tractor beam. And remember the cloaking device I showed you on my lion? The program creates a visual overlay based on proximity, but it has to be tweaked for each lion. So far, I only have it working in mine and Hunk’s.”

“What about scanners? How do you fool them?”

“That took a little more figuring out. Are you familiar with—”

Allura broke through on the ship’s communication system. “Paladins, I need you on the bridge immediately.”

“Allura, what’s going on?” Matt said through the intercom.

“There’s a Galra ship approaching.”

“Where’s Keith?”

“He hasn’t checked in yet,” Allura said. “We’ll have to do this without him.”

“Without him?” Hunk said. “How?”

“We’ll figure it out, Hunk,” Lance said. 

“Guess we’d better go,” Shiro said. 

Pidge chewed her lip as the lift took them to the bridge level and was muttering to herself.

“Don’t worry until you know what’s going on,” Shiro said to her.

“A Galra ship can’t be good.”

“Probably not.”

“How are you so calm?” she said, looking up at him.

“Oh.” She didn’t need to know about the arena. “I studied kendo growing up and joined the Garrison when I was sixteen. You could say I’m used to working under pressure. How does Keith handle times like this?”

Pidge considered it for a moment. “He doesn’t yell as much as he used to.”

“That’s...good?” 

The lift arrived and Pidge scrambled for Allura’s console.

“It’s Sendak,” Allura said gravely. “He’s opened a hailing frequency.”

“Put him on screen,” Lance said. “Show him we’re not afraid of one ship.”

“On screen?” Shiro said to Matt. “Does that go both ways?”

“Yeah, why?” 

“I have a history with him.”

“With Sendak? What do you mean?”

“It’s connecting,” Allura said before Shiro could answer. Sendak’s image was projected across the large view screen. He was no less startling as a picture.

“Princess Allura. This is Commander Sendak of the Galra Empire. I believe you took something of mine.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.” Sendak’s eyes shifted to Shiro. “As I suspected. The champion is alive.”

“How does he know Shiro?” Hunk whispered. 

“You caused me a lot of trouble,” Sendak continued. “It wasn’t difficult to figure out where those rebels were getting their information.”

“You set me up,” Shiro said.

“I’m told your contact refused to scream before she died. We never got the location of her base, but I think this is an equitable trade. Princess, surrender the lions and I’ll let you keep this ship intact.” 

“Never,” Allura said.

“We both know the primitives you chose to pilot the lions are too weak-spirited to wield such a weapon effectively. Give them to me and I will spare you when I take over the empire.”

“Princess,” Coran said quietly. “A second Galra ship is approaching. Both are equipped with ion cannons.”

“I’m gonna try to contact Keith,” Matt said and rushed to the back of the bridge, away from the view screen. 

“Order your ships to leave and we will not harm you,” Allura said, squaring her shoulders, but Sendak only laughed.

“Unless I’m mistaken, I count only four paladins on your bridge.”

“If you will not leave, we will fight.”

“Then I look forward to your annihilation.”

The projection vanished.

“What are we going to do?” Allura said.

“I vote wormhole,” Hunk said.

“No. They could follow us through,” Matt said. “We’ll take out their weapons and communications systems. That’ll buy us time.”

“The castle is at full capacity,” Allura said. “Coran and I can disable one of the ships if the four of you can handle the other.”

“All right,” Matt said. “Between my sword and Hunk’s cannons, we should be able to do some damage.”

“Hey, what about Shiro?” Lance said, and Shiro suddenly had six pairs of eyes on him.

“What about me?”

“You said the Black Lion reacted to you,” Pidge said.

Hunk nodded. “And we formed Voltron when you flew with Keith.”

“Is it true?” Allura said. “The Black Lion responded to you?”

“I—I think so,” Shiro said. “I can’t be sure. Keith was with me.”

“I know it is a heavy task,” Allura said. “But would you be willing to lead the team?”

“Shouldn’t it be you?” 

She shook her head. “I have no connection with the Black Lion. You have the constitution to pilot it, but it is ultimately the lion’s decision. I cannot force it.”

“I understand. I’d be honored to try.”

Allura pointed to one of the five tubes circling the deck. “That will take you to the lion. We are counting on you.”

Speechless, Shiro nodded and walked to the access tube. The others did the same. 

The transparent door slid open. Keith had probably used this tube countless times, just like the others. Not only was this going to be Shiro’s first shot piloting a lion, if it would accept him, he’d have to lead the team on top of it. It had been a while since he’d felt so nervous. He stepped inside the tube, expecting it to drop immediately, but was still shocked when he plummeted downward like a thrill ride. 

Queasy from the drop and zip line, he reached the lion, and with a hand to his stomach to settle it, sat in the dark pilot’s seat. Pidge had left her tools on the floor.

“Uh. Hello again,” Shiro said to the lion, placing his hands on its controls. Nothing happened. “I know I’m not your paladin, but he’s not here and they really need you out there.”

Shiro shut his eyes and tried to concentrate, but it was difficult with the shouts of the paladins through the intercom. Several minutes passed. He could hear the roar of the other lions and the sounds of impacts striking the castle’s particle barrier. It would only be a matter of time before Sendak’s weapons broke through. 

“I don’t want to control you,” Shiro said. He felt a bit foolish speaking so intimately with a piece of machinery—he’d never had to coax a craft to let him pilot it before—but he swallowed his pride. “I just want us to work together for a little while. I’m asking you to trust me. I know you don’t have any reason to, but you trust Keith, and he means more to me than anything.”

Still nothing. The paladins were yelling in his ears. 

“Allura, I’m sorry,” Shiro said. “The lion isn’t responding to me. I’m not sure what else I should do.”

She sighed. “It’s not your fault. Thank you for trying.”

“I’ll be back to the bridge shortly.”

It was irrational to be disappointed with himself for his failure. Allura had said this was the lion’s decision. It had nothing to do with him, but Shiro was frustrated anyway, angry he wasn’t able to help when he wanted to, angry with Keith for not being here. 

As he was leaving the cockpit, he stopped and addressed the lion one more time. 

“I’ve always believed Keith would do incredible things. I couldn’t have imagined something like this. Promise me you’ll take care of him.”

He patted the wall, as though it were a live animal he was trying to soothe, and started up through the hatch. 

In his mind, Shiro had the curious sensation of a cat pawing at a door. Not hard enough to open it—a playful movement. Was this the lion trying to communicate with him? He kept very still. Slowly, he formed an idea of what it wanted him to do: how he was supposed to reenter the lion, to reposition his hands on each of the controls, how much force it wanted him to apply. He followed his intuition and the lion purred to life, rumbling underneath him, and like a wave from the back of the ship, the lights swept on and panels activated.

“It’s working,” Shiro called. “Allura, it’s working!” 

“Good!” Matt said. “Stop yelling and get out here.”

Shiro didn’t have to guide the lion out of the castle. It leaped.


	9. Chapter 9

There was no one waiting in the bay when Keith docked. Matt had tried to contact him a few hours ago and managed to get a string of coordinates across despite the poor connection. Keith, already on his way back, had doubled his speed, sick when he’d arrived and seen the ruins of a Galra ship suspended a distance from the castle.

No one answered his hails.

He jumped down from the pod and sprinted through the empty bay toward the Black Lion’s hangar. The lion was present, but noticing the new blast marks on its hull, he tried the intercom again.

“Matt, it’s Keith. What the hell is going on?”

No one answered. He hastened to the Red Lion’s hangar next and found it also on board, also bearing new damage. Something had happened; something had drawn the Black Lion off of this ship. Besides himself, Keith only knew of one person it was bonded to.

“Someone answer me. Hello?”

He drew his knife and ran the rest of the way to the lift. As it ascended, he could hear raised voices, and when the doors opened on the bridge level, Pidge cried out Shiro’s name and Keith went cold all over. _No_. Not while he was gone. He should never have gone without talking to him. If anything had happened to Shiro, Keith would never forgive himself.

He shot through the open doors, prepared to fight.

On the bridge, the team encircled Shiro—very much alive—wearing the black paladin’s flight suit. Their shouts were of celebration and Keith began to breathe again, confounded but relieved. He put a hand on the wall when his knees buckled.

Shiro noticed him first.

“Keith!” His eyes were bright.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” Keith said, panting.

“Our bad,” Hunk said. “We were a little bit distracted.”

“Now you know how it feels,” Pidge said.

Matt scowled. “Where the hell were you?”

“Yeah,” Lance said. “It’s a good thing Shiro was here or Sendak might’ve kicked our butts.”

“Sendak?” Keith said.

“He tried to take the lions,” Allura said. “But we took down his ship. Unfortunately, the second ran. If it hadn’t been for Shiro, we may well have been on the losing end of the fight.”

“Shouldn’t we follow the other ship?”

“No. I don’t want to take the lions any farther into Galra territory.”

“So Sendak’s...you took out Sendak.”

“We believe so.”

“I should’ve been here,” Keith said. He let go of the wall. “I’m sorry.”

Matt stepped forward. “Keith, I think I speak for everyone when I say we’re glad for you. This training that you’re doing is important and we’d never ask you to stop, but you’ve put it ahead of the team. We had no idea how to reach you. Lance is right. If it hadn’t been for Shiro—”

“I think he gets it.” Shiro put a hand on Keith’s arm. He was frowning, but he spoke benignly. “Are you okay?”

“You piloted the Black Lion,” Keith said, realizing.

“Yes.”

“He _saved_ us,” Matt said.

“You formed it, didn’t you. Voltron.”

“Yes,” Shiro said.

Keith let out a breath and covered his mouth. No one said anything right away.

“Keith,” Shiro said. His face had softened. “It’s not what you think. I have no intention of taking over your team. This was an emergency.”

But Keith shook his head. “I’m not upset, Shiro. I’m relieved.”

Hunk blinked. “You’re...huh?”

Keith looked at all of them. “With Shiro here, Voltron finally has a real leader. We actually have a chance at winning this war.”

“Hey!” Lance said, frowning. “Don’t discount all of the work we’ve done. We might not have been able to do what we did today, but that didn’t stop us. Think of all the people we’ve helped.”

“And you’ll help more of them now,” Keith said.

“Why are you talking like you won’t be a part of this?” Matt said.

“I guess this is as good a time as any.” Keith cleared his throat. “I think we can all admit you feel differently about me now that you know about my heritage.”

“Keith…” Allura began to say. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for misjudging you. If I have made you feel unwelcome—”

He stopped her. “Princess, I get it. I don’t blame you for how you reacted. I’m still trying to come to terms with it. But what I can tell you is that putting on this uniform?” He touched the black bodysuit. “For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m supposed to be part of something.”

“Keith...” Matt said.

“The Blades have asked me to join them as a full member.”

“What does that mean?” Shiro said.

“It means there’s an opening on this team.” Keith met his eyes. “Shiro, you belong here. I’m sure of that.”

“You’re leaving us?” Pidge said.

“We’re still on the same side. I’m just wearing a different suit.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Lance said, sniffing. “I’m glad about Shiro and everything, but we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

Keith felt awkward and rubbed his neck. “Look, I need a shower. I’ve been wearing this for three days. We can talk more later.”

Lance nodded and glanced away.

Keith flashed a smile at everyone and headed for his room. On the way, he sent a confirmation to the Blades. Kolivan contacted him almost immediately and Keith sat on the edge of his bed to take the call.

“I am pleased you are accepting our offer,” Kolivan said.

“Where am I going?”

“I want you to train with one of our most experienced operatives. Her name is Krolia.”

Keith’s heart picked up at her name. He rubbed his mouth. “I appreciate it.”

“I’m not doing this out of sentiment.”

“I know.” Keith took a breath. “How soon do you need me?”

“As soon as possible. We have heard rumors of a superweapon being developed.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow.”

“I’ll send the details immediately.” Kolivan paused. “You’ve just returned to your team. Won’t another mission so soon cause a problem for them?”

“Shiro’s gonna lead them from now on.”

“The informant?”

“He was a lieutenant at the Garrison when I was a cadet. Trust me, this is better for everyone.”

“I see. Let us know when you are underway.”

Keith undressed and went to the shower room. He thought that Shiro might come after him and tell him that he was making a mistake, but Keith enjoyed a quiet shower by himself, mulling over the team’s reactions. He’d been surprised most by Lance. They had never been especially close—they’d actually come to blows a couple of times, and Lance was always the first to point out any of Keith’s missteps. Keith would never have guessed that pestering might’ve come from respect.

Shiro handed him a towel as he came out of the shower. He’d changed out of the flight suit into a dark t-shirt and pants. Keith took the towel without looking at his face.

“Are you leaving because of me?” Shiro said.

“No, I’m _able_ to leave because of you. I just talked to Kolivan. I’m gonna be working with my mother.”

“Your...mother? That’s great, Keith. I’m really happy for you.” Shiro smiled widely at him, but after a few seconds it began to falter. “I’m worried you’re still upset about what happened between us.”

“I told you, that wasn’t a big deal.”

“It was to me.” Shiro rubbed his face and cast his eyes down. “I’m sorry. You’re the last person I would ever want to hurt.”

Keith was blindsided. “What are you talking about?”

“I knew you kissed me because you were scared and confused. I only meant to comfort you, but I let my emotions get in the way. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry you feel that you have to avoid me.”

“I’ve been avoiding you because I don’t know how to _be_ around you anymore. How can you act so normal?”

Shiro looked at him pleadingly. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“What I...” Keith rubbed his face. It _had_ been what he’d wanted, but it was impossible in practice. “You looked like you regretted it. You fed me that line about working together.”

“I was worried my actions would affect the team, and I was right. You’ve hardly spoken to anyone in weeks. The fact that you weren’t here today is partially my fault. I knew we should’ve talked about it right away, but you seemed determined to forget it.”

Keith sagged against the nearest wall. “I thought you were about to reject me.”

“Reject you?” Shiro stared at him.

“Shiro, I’ve wanted to kiss you since I was sixteen years old, but I figured you were still hung up on Adam. I didn’t want to hear you say it.”

“Is that why you apologized?”

Keith nodded.

“Adam and I were done a long time ago.” Shiro came closer and brushed hesitant fingers over Keith’s cheek. “I’ve been so afraid I crossed a line we can’t take back.”

Keith licked his lips. “I kissed you on purpose,” he said and grabbed the front of Shiro’s shirt.

There was no panic behind it this time. Their mouths came together softly. Keith looped his arms around Shiro’s neck and let the towel fall.

“Someone might come in,” Shiro said.

“Don’t care.”

Keith couldn’t think of much beyond the contrast of Shiro warm against him, the cold wall behind his back. Dizzy, Keith kissed him and slid a hand down Shiro’s chest.

Shiro drew a sharp breath. “We should go to my room.”

But Keith shook his head and kissed him harder. He licked the inside of Shiro’s mouth and Shiro groaned, holding Keith more tightly against him.

“ _Please_ let me take you to my room,” Shiro whispered against his mouth. Keith grinned.

“I can’t walk down the hall like this.”

“Put on some clothes.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Keith pressed his hips forward.

“Is my hand okay?” Shiro said.

“Yeah. Hurry.”

Shiro dropped his face to Keith’s shoulder and wrapped a hand around him. Keith had never let anyone touch him like this before and gasped when Shiro began to move his hand, when he kissed the side of Keith’s neck. It didn’t feel the same as touching himself. Shiro’s hand was larger and he moved it patiently, with a slow twist on the upstroke that had Keith grappling at the wall. The sensation spread beneath his skin and every part of him became electrified.

Shiro put his mouth to Keith’s ear. “Tell me when you’re close.”

“Now,” Keith said and angled his body away so he wouldn’t get anything on Shiro’s clothes. He took several deep breaths with his forehead against the wall. Shiro crowded against him, pulling his fingers through Keith’s hair, and kissed the back of his neck.

“Do you think you can walk now?”

“Give me a minute. My legs aren’t working.”

“Maybe we should get something to eat first.”

“What about you?” Keith peered at him through one eye over his shoulder.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re hard. I can feel it.”

Shiro kissed his neck again. “We’ll eat fast.”

Keith didn’t want to eat at all. He wanted to stay as they were, with Shiro warm against his back, mouthing at his skin. He wanted to feel Shiro’s skin touch his. But his stomach had other ideas.

“Fine. We’ll get food and then we’re going to my room.” He turned in Shiro’s arms and kissed him squarely on the mouth. “Hand me my shirt?”

* * *

Lance eyed them suspiciously at dinner. “Keith keeps smiling. Why is Keith smiling? Is this bothering anyone else?”

“He’s probably smiling because the food is so delicious,” Hunk said.

Matt raised his glass. “It’s great, Hunk. Thanks.”

Lance took another bite but didn’t look convinced.

“Hey, since everyone’s here, we should play the game after dinner,” Pidge said.

“Guys, I’m pretty tired,” Keith said.

“I respect that you’re tired, but we won’t have a chance to play once you’re gone,” Hunk said. “We should make the most of the time we have together.”

“And you should see how bad Shiro is at it,” Pidge said.

“It’s amazing,” Lance said. “Shiro’s actually bad at something.”

“It is a fun game,” Shiro admitted. “We could play for a little while?”

Keith glared at him sideways. “I thought _you_ were tired too.”

Shiro looked apologetic. “I’ll still be tired after one game.”

Lance squinted. “Now Keith is flushed.”

“Spices,” Hunk said quickly. “They always get someone.”

“Is there dessert?” Pidge asked.

Keith rested his fists against the edge of the table. He wanted to be alone with Shiro, but considering he was leaving tomorrow, the least he could do was play one round—especially after the way he’d been acting. It wasn’t like he and Shiro were being separated for the night. If anything, with everyone playing, they’d be crammed around the game table, practically on top of each other.

He’d miss this. These moments with the team had grown on him when he wasn’t thinking about it. He’d miss Hunk’s cooking, Pidge’s optimism, Matt’s naked honesty. Allura’s tenacity and Coran’s quirky sense of humor. He’d even miss Lance, whose skepticism had carved Keith into a better leader.

He flexed his hands.

“A game sounds good.”

“I’ll let Allura and Coran know we’re playing,” Matt said. “Let’s bring dessert with us.”

They ate it over riotous laughter around the game table. And when Shiro’s character died for the fourth time, Shiro hid his face in Keith’s neck and Keith laughed until he was crying.

* * *

“I thought we were never getting out of there,” he said as soon as they had reached his room and locked themselves in it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would take that long.” Shiro kissed him up against the inside of the door. “Thank you for playing. I know it meant a lot to them.”

They stumbled to the bed. Keith spread out on his back with Shiro crouched between his legs. Shiro’s hair hung loosely around his face. Keith reached up to move it aside.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

Shiro’s laugh hedged on panic. “I’m terrified.”

“Good. Me too.” And although his face was hot and he had only a beginner’s idea of how this was supposed to work, Keith slid his hands to the back of Shiro’s head and guided it down to his.

For a long time, they did nothing more than kiss. Shiro seemed determined not to put any weight on him, leaning over Keith on his knees. Keith pushed at his shoulder until Shiro understood he wanted them to switch positions and complied, flipping onto his back and scooting upright against the wall. He took off his shirt.

Keith raised his arms to remove his shirt as well and let it fall.

He crawled onto Shiro’s lap and put his arms around his neck. He liked the way their chests felt pressed together. He’d never been this close to another person before, but even this wasn’t enough. Keith wanted to fuse them so they could never be apart, no matter the physical distance—to brand himself into Shiro’s DNA, make himself as inextricable a part of him as Shiro was to Keith.

He had no sense of time. He didn’t _think_ in terms of time but in sounds. Touches. The slippery texture of Shiro’s tongue moving over his lips, how Shiro groaned if Keith rocked against him. Shiro bent his face to kiss Keith’s neck, leaving a damp trail to cool on his skin.

Keith kissed a scar on Shiro’s shoulder, the junction where his prosthesis began.

“I wanna destroy whoever did this to you.”

Shiro went still.

“Does it disgust you?”

“Does it disgust you that I’m part Galran?”

Shaking his head, Shiro settled his hands on Keith’s hips and drew him closer. “I don’t care what you are. You’re Keith. That’s all I need to know.”

Keith kissed him for half a minute and hooked his thumbs inside Shiro’s pants. “Can I take these off?” he asked and Shiro sputtered with laughter.

“You can do anything you want.”

Keith had seen him naked before. He’d undressed Shiro before, but this—touching him with desire—was entirely new. Shiro’s body was imperfect and beautiful. Keith licked his lips and bowed his head, rewarded by a moan, the pull of Shiro’s hands in his hair when Keith’s lips closed around him. He couldn’t take much into his mouth without coughing, but Shiro was infinitely patient, stroking Keith’s hair and murmuring his name.

When Shiro came, Keith experienced a series of firsts: the curve of Shiro’s back, wet with sweat against Keith’s fingertips; his quiet gasp; the bitter-strange flavor Keith would grow addicted to. Shiro reached for him and Keith went, kissing him so Shiro would taste himself, and then Shiro was rolling them over and Keith gladly bore his full weight.

“Sorry if I sucked at that,” he said.

“Was that your first time?”

“Yeah.”

“I promise it didn’t suck.”

He kissed a path down Keith’s chest and stomach. Shiro removed Keith’s pants, kissing the inside of his knees as he pulled them off of each leg. Keith felt fever-hot and lay trembling, naked, his heart frantic as Shiro looked at him. Shiro’s chest was heaving. He settled back on top of Keith and their bodies touched fully. Keith clawed at Shiro’s back, flinching when his fingers descended the scars they’d climbed to this moment.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Keith said, smoothing his palms where he’d scratched him, but Shiro captured his mouth.

“I _like_ when you do it.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll tell you if I don’t like something. You do the same, okay?”

“Pretty sure I like everything,” Keith said breathlessly.

“Everything, huh?” Shiro licked Keith’s nipple and Keith shivered all the way to his toes. Shiro hummed laughter and did it again. “I guess you do like that.”

When he bent to kiss Keith’s sternum, his lips touched the metal chain Keith wore. Shiro lifted his head, bringing the tags close enough to read.

“When did you take these?” he asked, sounding awestruck.

“Before you left for Kerberos.”

Shiro ran a thumb over the raised lettering. “Are you ever going to call me by my first name?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes. If you’d be okay with that.” He grinned at Keith expectantly, as if he wanted him to say it on the spot, and Keith flushed harder than he had just moments ago when Shiro had taken off his clothes.

“I’ll say it sometime.”

Shiro looked satisfied. He gathered his hair to one side of his head. “Hold my hair back?”

Keith put his hand on Shiro’s hair, curling his fingers into it, and Shiro lowered his head.

“You don’t have to,” Keith said, realizing what Shiro was intending to do, but Shiro bit the inside of Keith’s thigh and nosed at his cock, licking at the underside.

Keith whispered his name and Shiro took him inside. Keith had never felt anything like the heat of Shiro’s mouth. He wanted to die like this. Moaning, he tightened his fingers in Shiro’s hair and in the sheets.

Shiro had done this before. He wasn’t clumsy like Keith had been. He knew how to work his tongue, how to take Keith into his throat. And Keith watched through half-lidded eyes, hypnotized. He’d never been so exposed, but he didn’t feel embarrassed until Shiro looked up at him from between his legs and held his gaze—eyes possessive, cheeks flushed and gorgeous. Keith had never seen him aroused before and was overwhelmed by what he felt. He hated the people who had belonged to Shiro before him, people he’d touched like this, who had touched him in return. He hated Adam for leaving Shiro as much as he was grateful.

Keith’s entire body was sensitized. He had to touch him. He let go of the sheets and brought his other hand to Shiro’s face, lifting his chin with his fingertips, and dragged his thumb across Shiro’s lip. Shiro bit down lightly, crawling up Keith’s body to kiss him.

“Does it not feel good?”

“It feels fantastic.”

“Should I keep going?”

Keith slid both hands into Shiro’s hair and brought their mouths together. “I want to kiss you.”

“Do you want me to use my hand again?”

“Yeah.”

Shiro took Keith in his palm. It wasn’t as warm or tight as his mouth, but Keith liked being able to kiss while Shiro touched him. What they did with each other tonight would have to sustain him until the next time they saw each other, however long that would be.

Shiro twisted his hand and Keith gasped, curling his toes into the bed and throwing his head back. Shiro sucked on his neck, drawing a gasp from Keith, who thrust into his hand.

“I like the sounds you’re making,” Shiro said into his ear. “Are you close?”

Shivering, Keith nodded. Shiro put his lips to Keith’s neck again and sucked so hard it was painful. He untangled Keith’s hands from his hair and held them together with his left, free to take Keith back into his mouth. Keith saw galaxies. He came immediately, unable to cover his mouth or the sounds that came out. They could probably hear him in the hall. He grasped at the air.

Shiro continued to caress him with his tongue, gently sucking even after Keith had gone soft. And when Keith began to flinch and rolled away, Shiro pulled a sheet over their legs and lay down beside him.

“How was that?” Shiro said. “Did I pass?”

Keith felt lightheaded and covered his laughter. Shiro pushed up on an arm and looked down at him affectionately, cupping Keith’s face with his Galra hand. It was warm.

Keith’s eyes began to sting and he turned his head, flinging an arm over them.

“Shit. _Shit_ , I don’t want to leave you tomorrow.”

“Do you have to go so soon?”

“Krolia’s gonna be waiting for me.”

Shiro kissed his shoulder.

“Is it terrible that I don’t want to let you walk out of this room?”

Keith looked at him in surprise. “Are you gonna tell me not to go?”

“You should do what’s important to you,” Shiro said, stroking his hair. “I would never hold you back from that. But I’ll be lonely without you.”

Keith tilted his face up. “Just so we’re clear,” he said against Shiro’s mouth. “When this is all over, I want to get a place together.”

“O—okay,” Shiro said and Keith kissed his smile.

“A couple acres somewhere. And I want to get a dog.”

“We’ll get one.”

“A rescue dog.”

“Whatever you want.”

“I’ll need something to keep me company while you’re off flying missions.”

He would never forget the way Shiro smiled when he said that, the devotion in his eyes, the single wet trail down his cheek. Shiro embraced him.

“Would you mind if I message you sometimes?”

“Of course not. And we’ll see each other.”

“We will. I’m glad we talked before you left. This last month has been…”

Keith was startled when he felt wetness against his shoulder, the tremors in Shiro’s body. He rested a hand on his hair and smoothed an apology into it.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Shiro. I’ve been an asshole.”

Shiro shook his head. “I’m not...this isn’t only because of you. My head’s pretty messed up. You’ll have to be patient with me.”

“I don’t know what you went through, but when you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“I know. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” Shiro inhaled deeply against Keith’s skin. “I’m sorry. I’m ruining the mood, aren’t I.”

“What happened to you was not your fault. That’s what you used to tell me.”

“I guess it’s different being on the receiving end.”

Keith kissed the side of his face. “I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll always be here for you.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Why do you think?”

It was the most honest thing he’d ever said. Shiro lifted his head to stare at him. He’d stopped crying and his eyes were wide. Shining.

“Keith, I...”

He didn’t finish. Keith’s smile flickered. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said, drying Shiro’s eyes, but Shiro took his face in both hands.

“You are my best friend. I _adore_ you. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to deserve you.”

Keith was so stunned by the sincerity in Shiro’s voice, he couldn’t speak for a few seconds. Holding his breath, he turned his face into Shiro’s palm.

“You better not plan on dying any time soon.”

“Maybe sixty, seventy years.”

“I’ll have gray hair.”

“It’ll look good on you.” Shiro kissed him again, sweetly. “We should shower.”

“We can shower in the morning.”

“Do you want your shorts?”

“Not really.” Keith laid a hand on Shiro’s bare hip and smiled against his mouth. “I like being with you like this.”

“Naked?”

“Yeah. Let’s sleep. I won’t leave until after you wake up.”

“Will you hold me?” Shiro asked.

Keith’s chest swelled with pride. “Do you want to turn the other way?”

After kissing him one last time, Shiro rolled over and Keith fit himself against his back like a puzzle, knees tucked into the bend of Shiro’s legs, and covered them both with the blanket. It came to Shiro’s shoulder and up to Keith’s neck.

“Is this okay?” he said, brushing Shiro’s hair aside.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Keith put his arms around Shiro and kissed a scar between his shoulder blades. “I’ll come back when I can,” he said.

Shiro sighed, seeming to melt back against him, and held Keith’s hands to his chest. “I’ll wait for you.”

* * *

Morning came, or what passed for morning in space. It was always dark there. But Keith still woke. He woke beside Shiro for the first time.

They had shifted positions sometime during the night. Keith’s arms were numb between them, and Shiro had rolled toward him, draping an arm over Keith’s side. He’d caught Keith’s legs between his. Shiro’s body was so warm it was like sleeping in the stifling desert shack. Their skin was damp wherever it touched, but the intimacy was strangely comfortable.

Keith had packing to do, but he didn’t want to get up right away. He didn’t want to move for fear Shiro would, that even the slightest movement of his leg might cause him to roll over again, that Keith might miss the first flutter of his eyes, the expression he would make when he saw Keith beside him.

Shiro slept with his mouth open and so close, Keith had only to tilt his chin and their lips would brush. He gave into temptation. The hand on his back began to move against his skin. Keith opened his eyes wide enough to see Shiro looking at him.

Shiro drowsily kissed him good morning and pulled Keith on top of him.

“This is a nice way to wake up,” Shiro said into his ear. He hugged Keith to him and sighed. “Did you sleep well?”

“Actually, yeah. I slept the whole night. You?”

“This is the best I’ve felt in years. Your bed’s comfortable.”

“It’s the same as yours.”

“We’ll have to try mine next time.” Shiro yawned. “Are you going soon?”

“After breakfast.”

“Would you take a picture with me before you go?”

“Right now?”

“I don’t want to forget. Does your watch have a camera?”

Keith rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I probably look like hell,” he said and brought up the camera app.

“You look gorgeous.”

Shiro kissed his cheek. The camera went off.

“Will you send me a copy of that?”

“Sure.” Keith did and kissed him slowly. “I should pack.”

Shiro slid his hands to Keith’s ass. “I’ll help you. It’ll go faster.”

“We need showers and food.”

“Lift your hips a little?” Shiro got a hand between them and muffled Keith’s groan with his mouth.

* * *

He continued to touch him in the shower, and over the bag Keith filled with extra clothes, and in the lift to the dining room. Keith had never experienced this affectionate side of Shiro before. It was as exhilarating as it was embarrassing, having Shiro’s hand on his knee under the table as they ate, knowing the others could see the bruises Shiro had left on his neck, deep enough they wouldn’t fade entirely before his return.

They didn’t kiss goodbye. Shiro hugged him in the pod bay as he’d done that day at the Kerberos launch. “Go,” he said. “Be great.”

Keith pressed his face to Shiro’s neck and breathed.

He hugged the others in turn, then hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and walked toward the pod he’d take to the coordinates Kolivan had sent.

After a few steps, he paused and turned around.

“Hey, Takashi?”

Hunk’s eyes went comically wide and the Holt siblings began to snicker. “You owe me twenty GACs,” Pidge said to Hunk. Allura and Coran both squinted.

“ _Ta-kashi_ ,” Coran repeated. He turned to Lance. “I’ve never heard that one before. Is it an Earth greeting?”

“It’s Shiro’s first name,” Lance whispered loudly. He crossed his arms and sighed. “Keith is showing off.”

“Ah, I see,” Coran said, tapping his chin. “So it’s part of an Earth mating ritual? I think it’s working. Look, they’re both turning a fascinating shade of pink! Oh—don’t let us stop you, Keith.”

“Thanks, Coran,” Keith said into his hands.

Shiro had reddened to the tips of his ears, but in spite of his embarrassment, his expression was radiant. “What is it, Keith?”

“Take care of my team.”

“Yes, sir. Come back safely.”

Keith smiled at him, and at each of them gathered to see him off, then turned and didn’t look behind him. It would be harder to leave if he looked at Shiro’s face again. But they’d see each other soon, in photographs and video calls, in stolen moments when their teams worked together. And one day, when Zarkon was defeated, they’d make the journey back to Earth. They’d get a dog and a place and Keith would look at him all he liked across the table in Shiro’s favorite restaurant.

The bay doors opened and Keith guided the pod into the familiar blackness of space—still impossibly vast, but no longer devastating.

 

 

 

###

**Author's Note:**

> [Illustration by littlewhitetie](https://twitter.com/littlewhitetie/status/1076011032324100097) (it's gorgeous; please go see it - now on Twitter following the tumblr purge)
> 
> Fic post [on tumblr](http://www.museaway.com/post/177422973495/keithshiro-canon-divergent-au-mature-48k>fic%20post%20on%20tumblr) and [on twitter](https://twitter.com/museawayfic/status/1033822407444914178) | [playlist #1](https://open.spotify.com/user/museaway/playlist/5bog79CjSkLpO4v9WwQFbA) and [playlist #2](https://open.spotify.com/user/museaway/playlist/4bECPuO5Izro8P6fJgjKSA?si=maJg3geSRhaTw_3hBiLgkg) | [inspiration board](https://www.pinterest.com/museaway/the-incomprehensible-vastness-of-space/)
> 
> Galcia is based on the Blue Fiend, the robeast that killed the original Takashi Shirogane in _GoLion_. Suna is based on the robeast Sand from _GoLion_ episode 42. Planets Iluia and Proria were made up for this fic and do not appear in Voltron canon. Most of the time, I used "Galran" as a noun and "Galra" as an adjective (although there were a few places where Galran sounded better as a modifier). 
> 
> Thank you to everyone in SBB's #wip_writing channel for the idea of having the Holts be the arms of Voltron, and for the team's struggle to form it. 
> 
> Thank you to Maria for the wonderful and thoughtful beta. And thank you to Maria #2 and Cherie for their help with the summary!
> 
> This fic wouldn't exist if not for Synne, my friend from Trek fandom who told me to watch Voltron. I fell in love with Sheith immediately and quietly shipped them for a year, and worked up the courage to sign up for this bang in February. Thank you for your encouragement while I worked on this. I put something into the last scene for you and I hope you saw it. ♥
> 
> Thank _you_ so much for reading. If you're on Twitter, [please come say hello](http://www.twitter.com/museawayfic)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] The Incomprehensible Vastness of Space](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16474679) by [Annapods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annapods/pseuds/Annapods)




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